


The Peaceful Quiet You Create for Me

by Linsky



Series: Benncestfest [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Codependency, First Time, Growing Up, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, Undernegotiated Kink, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-07 18:29:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5466725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linsky/pseuds/Linsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But then Jordie puts his weight more heavily on top of him and something switches, and it’s like all the fear is draining out of Jamie’s body. His arms and legs and stomach go calm and floaty. Jordie’s heavy, but Jamie doesn’t feel the weight anymore. It just feels <i>so good.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Peaceful Quiet You Create for Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Seascribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/gifts).



> Thank you, Seascribe, for inspiring me to write this crazy Benn-brother saga! It's probably not something I would have ever ended up writing unprompted, but as you can see, I got rather into it.
> 
> A million thanks to Tirsh and to aohatsu for betaing, and especially to Tirsh for dubbing this Benncestfest, which is...eerily accurate.
> 
> Mild kink is mild. See end notes for spoiler-y warnings, should you be concerned.
> 
> Note: for the purposes of this fic, we're pretending that Jamie turned 18 shortly before the draft, rather than that July. ::waves hands::
> 
> (Title from the Dixie Chicks’ “Easy Silence.”)

Jamie’s five when Jordie does it for the first time.

They’re up late, watching cartoons in the living room, because Mom and Dad said they could have a sleepover. Jenny sometimes does this with them but not tonight because she has soccer in the morning. It’s really dark in the house, and quiet except for the TV and Jordie crunching popcorn, and Jamie is sure there’s a monster outside.

“Jord,” he whispers. He tugs on Jordie’s sleeve. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Jordie’s eyes are fixed on the TV screen.

“That.” There’s a creaking coming from outside, where their porch boards sometimes creak if you step on them wrong. Jamie shivers under the blanket. “There’s something out there.”

Jordie listens for a minute. “Probably a zombie,” he says, and then Jamie can’t breathe, because Jordie’s seven, and if he says it’s a zombie then it _definitely_ is.

“A zombie?” he says.

Jordie nods. “One of those big mean ones with nine-inch teeth and slime dripping off its hands. Probably looking for little kids to eat.”

Jamie starts to cry. He doesn’t mean to, but it’s so scary, and he doesn’t know what to do. His whole body’s shaking, and his parents are _so far away,_ and there’s a zombie outside, and—

“Oh, come on, Jamie, it was just a joke,” Jordie says, but Jamie can still hear the creaking. “Stop crying, or Mom and Dad are going to make us go to bed.”

If Mom and Dad came, the zombie would have to go away. But Jamie shouldn’t tell Jordie that. He doesn’t want Jordie to think he’s scared, even if he can’t keep his legs still. “We have to tell them,” he says anyway, and Jordie puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him from getting up. Jamie squirms against them, because what if the zombie comes while he’s stuck there?

“For Pete’s sake,” Jordie says, and he pushes Jamie down on the couch and lies on top of him.

For a second Jamie struggles, because _zombie,_ and what is Jordie doing, anyway? But then Jordie puts his weight more heavily on top of him and something switches, and it’s like all the fear is draining out of Jamie’s body. His arms and legs and stomach all go calm and floaty. Jordie’s heavy, but Jamie doesn’t feel the weight anymore. It just feels _so good._

“Finally,” Jordie says, and Jamie makes an _mm_ sound, because he doesn’t have to worry about the zombie anymore. Jordie’s got him. Jordie feels like the blankets their mom tucks around Jamie every night before he goes to sleep, only so much better. Like Jamie will never be in danger from anything ever again.

He falls asleep like that, his head gone all hazy, Jordie a warm heavy weight on top of him in front of the TV.

***

Jordie doesn’t do it for a couple of weeks after that. The next time is when Jordie and Jenny are sitting on the floor, playing checkers. They’ve been playing all morning, and it sucks, because they never let Jamie play, not even if he calls winner. He’s _not_ too young to play, no matter what they say. It’s not his fault the game has stupid rules that are hard to remember.

“Jooordie,” he whines, tugging on Jordie’s sleeve. “Come on. You guys have been playing forever.”

Jordie ignores him and bounces one of his checker pieces across the board to Jenny’s end. Jenny makes a face and gives him some of her pieces.

“I can play if you win, right?” Jamie says to Jordie.

“Shut up, I’m trying to focus,” Jenny says. She’s nine and takes stuff super seriously.

“But it’s been for _ever,”_ Jamie says. It’s really sunny outside. “You guys said we could ride bikes.”

“Go ride your bike alone,” Jordie says, eyes on the board.

“Mom won’t let me,” Jamie says. “One of you has to come.”

“Tough,” Jenny says. She moves one of her red pieces. Jordie moves a black one. Jamie shoves at the board.

The pieces all slide a little. Jordie pushes Jamie away. “Quit it.”

Jamie shoves the board again, and this time Jordie grabs him and flattens him to the floor and pins him there.

Jamie wants to be annoyed. He is annoyed, at first. But Jordie’s paying attention to him now, not to the game, and Jamie likes that. And he can feel all Jordie’s weight pressing down. It’s making him feel kind of dazed, like when his mom scratches her fingernails over his scalp. He feels himself go all limp, and his head goes light like it’s going to float away. A balloon on a string.

“Quit. It,” Jordie says in Jamie’s ear. Jamie thinks maybe he’s supposed to sound mean, but he doesn’t, because his weight on Jamie feels so good. He doesn’t want Jordie to ever get up.

“Wow, you actually made him shut up,” Jenny says.

“My turn,” Jordie says, and he turns so that he’s lying crosswise across Jamie to finish the game. It’s not quite as good, but Jamie likes it anyway.

***

Jordie does it a bunch after that. Sometimes it’s when he thinks Jamie’s being annoying, which Jordie thinks happens way more often than Jamie does, but Jamie doesn’t mind the results, so whatever. He might even annoy Jordie and Jenny sometimes on purpose, just for the way Jordie will lie on top of him to get him to shut up.

Jenny doesn’t do it. Jamie’s glad about that. He doesn’t want anyone but Jordie to do it. But she does ask Jordie to do it when she wants to shut Jamie up, so sometimes Jamie annoys her, too.

Jamie’s favorites, though, are the times when it’s about something else. Like when he rescues a baby bird and keeps it in a shoebox and it dies two days later. Jordie finds him in the corner of the den, curled up and crying around the nest they found it in, and when Jordie shifts his weight on top of him it feels more like a hug. They just lie there together for a while, chests moving up and down as they breathe, and Jamie feels the knot in his throat dissolve.

Then there’s the time the night before first grade starts when Jamie can’t sleep, and he’s getting more and more worked up until Jordie crosses the room and presses him into the mattress. After that it’s like all the strings connecting the worries to Jamie’s mind have been cut, and he drifts off to sleep within minutes.

There are a lot of nights like that after school starts. The teacher starts assigning homework, which is so, so stressful and scary, and Jamie worries all the time that he’ll forget to do it or leave it in the wrong place and then he’ll get in trouble. Jordie sleeps in his bed with him a lot, telling him to shut up and lie down and stop thinking so much.

It’s easy to do the last part when Jordie’s on top of him. Jordie’s in charge then, so nothing that happens could possibly be Jamie’s fault anymore.

Sometimes Jordie lies on top of him for no reason. He’ll tell Jamie stories while they’re lying there, or they’ll just talk sleepily about nothing in particular or lie in silence. Those are the best times: when it’s just Jamie and Jordie, and nothing else in the world exists.

***

It happens less as Jamie gets older. Part of it is that they get their own rooms when Jamie’s ten and Jordie’s twelve, so the sleeping together thing doesn’t make as much sense. They’re also busier, with hockey on top of school. And Jamie’s better at dealing with his life at ten than he was at five. Little homework stuff doesn’t bug him the same way, even if there are bigger things, like hockey, that have taken its place. But sometimes he and Jordie will lie like that anyway, and it always sends a slow pleasure drip down Jamie’s spine.

He’s eleven when he realizes it hasn’t happened for a while. He and Jordie are watching TV at the time, Jamie slumped against Jordie’s side, and he thinks, _Huh, when was the last time we did the thing?_

He pokes Jordie in the side. “Jordie.”

“Shut up,” Jordie says, like Jamie knew he would.

Jamie pokes him again. “Jooordie.”

Jordie pushes him a little. Jamie thinks, this is it, this is when Jordie will roll over and pin him.

Except Jordie doesn’t. He just shoves Jamie away again and sticks a pillow in between them and goes back to watching TV.

Jamie sits there for a minute, feeling cold. He leans against the arm of the couch for the rest of the episode.

***

It’s okay, though. It’s not like Jamie and Jordie don’t spend almost every minute of their lives together, except when they’re in class. They still work on their slapshots and practice checking together, and Jordie still lets Jamie lean against him while they watch TV or do homework.

Jamie really likes that. It feels different from cuddling with Jenny, even when she’s being nice and helping him with math or consoling him after a loss. He’s always more aware of the way they’re touching when it’s Jordie, of his body and Jordie’s body and the places where they’re connecting. It makes him go a little tingly, sometimes.

Jordie’s also the one who tells Jamie what to do when he starts dating. “You can try to hold her hand if you want, or kiss her,” Jordie says when Jamie’s getting ready for his date with Cecilia Hallet. His mom is driving them to the movies, and Jamie can’t figure out what shirt to wear. Jordie’s talking about it so casually, like it’s not a big deal. It’s probably not, for him. “Maybe even French kiss, if she seems into it.”

“What’s French kiss?” Jamie asks.

“It’s when you put your tongue in her mouth,” Jordie says, sticking out his own tongue. Jamie almost trips on his jeans, thinking about it.

“That—feels good? Your tongue in someone else’s mouth?” he asks.

“It’s awesome,” Jordie says with a grin, and Jamie feels like a hot coal has been dropped into the pit of his stomach. His lips are buzzing a little just from thinking about it.

He does kiss CeCe that night, and when he gets the courage, he slips the tip of his tongue between her lips. It feels nice, but it’s not as interesting as he hoped. He thinks maybe hearing Jordie talk about it was better than actually doing it.

***

Sometimes Jamie still thinks about the thing they used to do. He knows it’s stupid—thinking about this random weird thing from when they were kids, now that he’s a teenager. But hockey makes him jittery, sometimes, and he starts having trouble falling asleep on the nights before games.

The first time his team travels to a game and stays in a hotel, when he’s fifteen, Jamie lies awake for hours, listening to the roommate he doesn’t really know snoring lightly in the other bed. He’s spent the night away from home before, of course, but he doesn’t usually feel this alone, or this strung out.

He texts Jordie around midnight, _My roommate’s snoring,_ and Jordie must be awake, because he texts back right away, _Shove toothpaste up his nose._

Jamie giggles. Quietly. His phone buzzes again: _Can’t sleep?_

_Just nervous, I guess,_ he texts back after a minute.

_You’ll kill it tomorrow,_ Jordie sends. And it’s nice to hear that, but not as nice as if Jordie were saying it in person, or if Jordie were touching him.

Jamie closes his eyes in the darkness. He can still remember so clearly what it felt like to have Jordie pressing him down like that. He usually tells himself that he doesn’t, that it’s not a thing he holds onto, but late at night like this it’s hard to lie to himself. He remembers the dreamy peace, the way the muscles in his shoulders would go slack.

He tries to picture it now: how heavy Jordie would be, now that he’s seventeen and starting to layer on muscle. The way Jordie would maybe mumble a couple of things in his ear before he fell asleep, going heavier with unconsciousness.

It makes Jamie’s limbs go looser just thinking about it. He focuses on that, picturing as hard as he can what it would feel like if Jordie were really there. It’s not as good as the real thing, but it shifts the nervous tension in his chest down to something warmer, lower.

Maybe he should jerk off. That would be calming. His dick is already hard—but his roommate’s asleep in the next bed, so Jamie just curls his hand around it and lets himself drift off to sleep.

They win the game the next day.

***

Jordie doesn’t get drafted. Jamie doesn’t think he’s ever felt so bummed as he does at the end of draft day, even though Jordie’s pretty cool about it—he wasn’t expecting it, he says, and he keeps talking about how he’ll go on playing hockey regardless.

Jamie knows he will. Jordie loves hockey more than anything, and it just sucks that hockey doesn’t love him back quite as hard.

It’s nice to have Jordie at home still, though, and not lose him to some NHL team halfway across the continent. Nice to have someone to flick bits of scrambled eggs at him in the mornings and chirp him about how he can’t grow facial hair yet. Nice to sometimes be able to sneak his head into Jordie’s lap while they’re watching a movie, and feel Jordie’s hand come to rest lightly on his hair. Jamie doesn’t ever want any of that to change.

***

If he thought Jordie’s draft was scary, his own is worse.

Jamie knows it could go either way. He’s not the worst player around, but he’s not the most coveted, either, and heck, if Jordie could go undrafted—

The whole family goes to Columbus, Ohio to see it. Jamie’s antsy all that first evening, even though he knows he’s not going in the first round. He watches Patrick Kane put on a Blackhawks jersey, and he wonders a little bit what it must feel like to be that talented, but he’s not upset when he doesn’t hear his own name called. He’s always assumed that if he were drafted, it would be in one of the lower rounds. He works hard, and he does okay, but he doesn’t have incandescent talent like that.

What if he hasn’t done okay enough, though? What if no team wants him tomorrow? And…what if one does?

He feels like his nerves are winding tighter and tighter as they go back to the hotel. He knows he needs sleep—needs to be able to deal with whatever will happen tomorrow—but it’s so hard to let everything go.

“Will you stop flopping around,” Jordie grumbles from the other bed. It sounds like he’s talking into his pillow.

“Sorry,” Jamie says, but he doesn’t stop. He tries, but God, so much hangs on tomorrow. Everything could change. He could become a real actual hockey player. Not that the guys who don’t get drafted aren’t—but Jamie could be part of the NHL. Sure, even if he’s drafted he might not get to play for a few years, he might never make it off the farm teams, but he _could._

Or…he could sit there for hours and not hear anybody call his name.

It feels like his whole body is vibrating under the sheets. He tries not to move, but nothing’s comfortable. He tries to adjust a pillow and knocks it onto the night table instead, where it makes the alarm clock clatter to the floor.

“Ugh,” Jordie says. “What are you even doing over there, calisthenics?”

“Sorry,” Jamie says again, miserably. And he is. But now the sheet is twisted around his leg, and he just can’t—

“For fuck’s sake.” He hears Jordie push back the covers. Jamie can see him a little in the light from the bathroom mirror, and he’s a dark outline as he approaches Jamie’s bed. Jamie stills as he stops above him. “Can’t even lie in bed,” Jordie mutters.

He pulls the sheet from around Jamie’s leg. Then—Jamie’s lying frozen on the bed—Jordie lifts the sheet and slides underneath it, on top of Jamie.

Jamie lets his breath whoosh out of him as Jordie’s weight presses on his chest. It’s been so long, but he remembers this: the way his muscles all melt as soon as his brother settles on him. The way he feels safe all of a sudden. The way a buzzing starts up in his head, white noise that blocks out anything else.

It’s different, too, though. Jordie’s so much bigger than he was the last time he did this. Jamie’s bigger, too, and he can feel the way their sizes match: Jamie’s frame holding up Jordie’s, Jordie weighing him down just the right amount.

He’s sure Jordie’s always smelled like this, but he doesn’t remember his scent filling his head in quite the same way. And there’s more warmth, starting in Jamie’s stomach and spreading down his limbs. His fingers tingle with it. It’s like the haze he’s in is full of sparks.

“Mm,” he breathes, can’t help it, and he hears Jordie’s breath catch next to his ear.

They’re both breathing faster than they were. Jamie can feel Jordie’s chest pressing down against his with each shallow breath. Jordie shifts a little against him, and that feels so good that Jamie follows the motion, rolling his hips up so that the head of his hard cock rubs against Jordie’s leg.

Jordie goes still. Jamie—Jamie knows this isn’t okay, isn’t normal, but the wonderful warm feeling is melting over his whole body, and even if this is wrong, maybe he can have it just a little. A little can’t hurt. He whines and rolls his hips up again.

Jordie groans. Jamie can feel Jordie’s cock getting harder against his hip, and it makes his blood thrum faster in his groin. Jordie shifts slightly, presses his leg against Jamie’s cock.

“Fuck,” Jamie whispers, and Jordie presses his leg down harder. “Oh fuck.”

Jordie’s breath is ragged in his ear. “God, Jamie,” he whispers, and yeah, this is definitely not right, but it’s _so good._ He can’t quite think about anything else when it feels so good.

Jamie’s hips are rolling now, little motions that rub the head of his cock against the leg that’s pressing down rhythmically as Jordie shifts above him. Jordie’s mouth falls to his shoulder, and his hands slide down Jamie’s arms to pin his wrists to the bed.

Jamie whines again at that. His head is spinning like he’s drunk, drunk on the pleasure that’s washing up and down his body. Jordie’s touch makes everything feel amazing. It’s like his body is awake for the first time, like his blood is rushing through his veins for the first time as his cock scrapes against Jordie’s leg.

“Hold me down,” he whispers, even though Jordie already is, and Jordie gasps like he’s been punched in the gut and presses harder on Jamie’s wrists.

They’re both rocking against each other now. Jordie’s cock feels like it’s branding a mark on the skin of Jamie’s hip. Jamie’s lost in a swirling storm of pleasure, and he just wants—

Jordie’s mouth slides over his, lips supple and wet. His tongue slips inside Jamie’s mouth, and Jamie flashes back the day Jordie talked to him about kissing, the heat that had settled into his stomach when he looked at Jordie’s tongue. That heat is there now, a fire burning through his gut as Jordie’s tongue slides along his. Jordie’s tongue.

They pant into each other’s mouths, Jamie desperate for air almost as much as he’s desperate for Jordie’s kisses. His cock is chafing against his boxers, but it’s okay, because Jordie’s leg is still moving against it, he’s fucking up against the hard muscle of Jordie’s thigh. Jordie’s hands are still firm around his wrists, and Jamie is held and pleasured and drowning in it and speeding up and rushing towards—

He throws his head back and convulses as he comes, spurting against the inside of his boxers and _wow._

He’s back in the haze again, riding alongside as Jordie groans and comes against his hip.

Jordie’s breath is hot, panting against his ear. He’s holding Jamie down with his full weight. Jamie has never felt better in his life.

It’s a few minutes later and Jamie’s come is cooling inside his boxers when Jordie starts to move away. “No,” Jamie says, a little higher than he means to, and Jordie stills. He lets his weight settle back on top of Jamie.

Yeah. That’s what Jamie needs. Jamie relaxes into it and feels himself drift off to sleep.

***

When he wakes up in the morning, he’s alone, and his boxers are stuck to the hair of his groin in a painful tangle.

He takes a very hot shower to get everything unstuck. He tries not to think about anything—not the draft, not what happened last night—but he doesn’t know what it means that Jordie was gone when he woke up. And the draft—

He remembers Jordie lying on top of him. His eyes flutter shut, and his stomach unknots itself.

When he steps out of the bathroom, Jordie’s back. There’s a pause while they both make eye contact. Jamie still doesn’t know what anything means, feels the knots return to his stomach. He lets his eyes skitter away.

“Breakfast time, huh?” Jordie says, and Jamie gets dressed in silence.

He tries not to think about it while they sit with their family at breakfast. He wishes he could pull Jordie aside and talk to him for a minute, even though he’s not sure what he would say. Then he imagines their parents finding out and feels himself go red with sickening shame at the thought. They would never…they would look at them like monsters.

Maybe that’s what Jordie’s thinking, too.

If he’s thinking that, he’s probably right. Because even now, with his parents on either side of him, without knowing what Jordie thinks about all this, he wants Jordie to touch him. Wants their feet to bump together under the table. Has to tuck his feet under his chair to keep from making that happen, skin prickling at the thought.

It’s a good thing no one expects Jamie to be normal right now. The tension around the table is thick. His mom tries to make conversation, but everyone’s kind of mumbly and distracted, and Jenny fills the silence with a ramble about school. It doesn’t help.

Jamie’s trying not to shake by the time they get to the auditorium. It’s almost good to have the distraction of Jordie next to him. Sure, Jamie keeps thinking about the way Jordie’s mouth had felt against his, but at least it takes his mind off of waiting for the announcer to say the next name, waiting to hear—

His name.

It’s not until the fifth round, but they say it. His name. They call it from the stage, he gets to go up to the accept a Dallas Stars jersey, they _want him in the NHL._

Jamie shakes hands in a daze. He can hear cheering, thinks maybe it’s his family. Hears the GM welcoming him to the team. Pulls on his jersey and smiles as wide as he’s ever smiled in his life.

He can’t stop smiling, after. He’s practically floating as he goes back to his seat. His mom is crying from happiness, and they all hug him, his dad pounding him on the back and Jenny squealing in his ear.

Jordie just hugs him for a moment. Jamie’s worried that he might be jealous, that maybe Jamie hurt him by getting drafted when Jordie didn’t. But when Jordie pulls back, the way his face is aglow goes to Jamie’s gut like a slug of vodka.

“Well done,” Jordie says, and Jamie’s never been this happy in his life.

They go out to dinner after. “We’ll miss you so much,” his dad says while they’re eating, and his mom nods and starts tearing up again.

“I’m probably not going anywhere for a while,” Jamie says, even while his mind is singing _Dallas Stars, Dallas Stars._ “I mean, they’ll probably want me to get some more development before I even go to Texas.”

“But they drafted you,” Jordie says, not an argument, just a statement. He still has that look on his face, and God, Jamie can barely swallow his food.

They walk next to each other on the way back to the hotel. Jamie feels like his happiness is a cloud around them. He still doesn’t know what any of this means, but he can feel Jordie’s every movement. Stumbles over his own feet when their hands brush.

They go into their hotel room, and as soon as the door shuts, Jordie pushes him up against it.

“Fucking hell, Jamie,” he growls. “Drafted by the NHL,” and then Jordie’s kissing him.

Jamie opens his mouth to it, lets Jordie’s tongue fuck into him. He wasn’t sure this would happen again. Wasn’t sure if Jordie was spending all day regretting it and kicking himself for letting it happen. But Jordie’s kissing him again, and from the way his tongue is exploring Jamie’s mouth, he’s not having any issues with it at the moment.

Jordie’s weight against him is good, it’s all good, but Jamie wants to be anchored more, and he whines high in his throat and bucks his hips.

“Yeah,” Jordie says, and maneuvers them away from the door and pushes Jamie back against one of the beds. Jamie falls onto the mattress, and Jordie follows a second later, covering him entirely in a way that makes every muscle in Jamie’s body go loose. Jordie gets Jamie’s hands in his own and holds them above head head, caught in a one-handed grip. “Keep them there,” he says, and slides down Jamie’s body.

Jamie trembles and twitches and misses his weight immediately. But Jordie told him to leave his hands above his head, and that’s something he can hold onto. Which is a good thing, because, oh God, Jordie’s hands are on the waistband of his dress pants, and Jamie can feel shivers running along his skin from the points of pressure. “Jordie,” he moans.

Jordie stills right away. “Too much?”

Jamie doesn’t want to have to say it, but he wants Jordie to keep going even more, so he says, “No, keep—” And then he has to stop talking because Jordie’s unzipping his fly and he has to focus on breathing.

No one’s ever touched him like this before. He’s made out with a bunch of girls, and once a girl let him rub off against her leg while he did it, but he’s never had a hand on his dick other than his own. When Jordie trails his fingers up his shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, Jamie sucks in air and arches his back at the sensation. It’s light, so light it’s making him desperate.

“Jordie,” he says again.

“Shh.” Jordie trails his fingers up to circle the head, where it’s making a damp spot on the fabric. He looks at Jamie, and his eyes are dark and serious and feel significant, somehow. “I’m going to take you apart,” he says, and Jamie breathes in sharply. “You want me to stop, you say so. But otherwise, you lie still.”

Jamie’s dick twitches in Jordie’s hand. He feels exposed and wrapped up at the same time, like Jordie’s gaze and touch and words form a blanket over the pair of them. Something no one else can touch. “Yeah,” he says.

Jordie nods and goes back to the light touches he’s giving Jamie’s dick through the cloth. Jamie’s not sure what lying still consists of, whether he’s supposed to be breathing this hard, but he can’t help it. His breath is coming in great violent heaves.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Jordie says. “Let’s see you under there.”

He lifts up the fabric of Jamie’s boxers. Jamie feels a flash of fear, the feeling of exposure returning. It would be different if Jordie were on top of him, anchoring him, but like this he feels too open. What if Jordie looks at him and doesn’t…

But Jordie looks at his dick and then back up at his eyes, and his own eyes have gone wide and dark. “You’re gorgeous, Jame,” he says, and Jamie moans because he just wants, just wants…

Jordie’s fingers brush up the shaft to the foreskin, where it’s peeled back, and ghost over the sensitive spot under the head that makes Jamie writhe. “So gorgeous,” he says again, and then oh God oh fuck Jordie’s _mouth_ —

Jordie lowers his mouth over the head of Jamie’s cock, and Jamie can barely take it. He throws his head back and jerks his hips without meaning to, but Jordie saw it coming, Jordie has his hands on Jamie’s hips, and that makes things even better. Jamie trembles as the miraculous white-hot wetness moves down over his cock.

“Jordie,” he says, “Jordie,” the only word he has left. Jordie wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks him off while he sucks the head, and oh fuck, this isn’t going to take very long.

“You ever had anyone do this to you before?” Jordie asks when his mouth pops off the head, and Jamie shakes his head, too far gone to even think of being ashamed about being a virgin. “Hot as fuck, Jamie,” he says, and then, “You can come in my mouth,” and Jamie almost does right then, but he holds on, clenches his hands together over his head and lets it keep going, this amazing wash of pleasure that’s starting in his cock and spreading over his whole body.

It can’t go on for long, though. It’s too good for that. Jordie hums around the head of his cock, and Jamie shouts and feels his hips pistoning against Jordie’s hold. His balls are tightening and a delicious twitching feeling is starting in the base of his cock, where Jordie’s hand is still sliding, and he looks down and sees Jordie’s mouth stretched wide over the head and he comes, spurting into Jordie’s mouth.

God, the feeling of Jordie’s mouth sucking the come out of him. Jamie feels like he’s in a warm bath, liquid pleasure along every inch of skin. He floats in it as Jordie licks the last drops of come from his head and lets him go.

“Fuck, Jamie, that was hot,” Jordie says. He stands up, and Jamie can see the way he’s straining against his dress pants. The sight makes heat bloom in the pit of his stomach, even though there’s no way he could possibly get it up again right now. He’s too languid, can’t do anything but bask in the sight of Jordie, Jordie turned on for him.

Jordie’s breathing kind of fast. “Can I—” he asks, and Jamie nods before he finishes the question, because honestly, he’d be fine with anything Jordie did to him right now.

What Jordie does is unbutton Jamie’s dress shirt and push up his undershirt. Jamie’s not sure why he does that, but Jordie’s hands feel really nice against his skin, so he’s okay with it. And then Jordie—Jordie unbuttons his own pants and kneels over him, straddling him, and starts—

Fuck. Jordie’s hand is moving on his cock. He licks his palm and starts jerking faster, and wow, Jamie can feel his pulse picking up even through his languor. Jordie’s cock is thicker than Jamie’s and flushed red and Jordie is breathing so hard just from touching it. From touching it and staring at _Jamie._ Jordie’s chest is heaving, and he starts to make these little whining sounds in the back of his throat, and Jamie thinks, Maybe he’ll let me do that to him, someday. And he whimpers at the thought and then Jordie is coming, streaking Jamie’s chest and just catching the edge of the undershirt.

Jordie falls forward on his hands and knees. He’s still breathing hard, face flushed and mouth open a little bit, and Jamie tilts his head up, not a lot, just raising his mouth near Jordie’s and hoping…

Jordie leans in and kisses him. It’s slow and sweet and totally different from their frantic kisses against the door. It’s a little like their kisses last night, but it’s not building up to anything this time. It just makes Jamie warm, inside and out.

They separate after a couple of minutes, and Jordie leaves his mouth just above Jamie’s, breath making his lips tingle.

“You got me all messy,” Jamie whispers, and it feels daring to reference it, even when they’re half-naked and coming down from their orgasms together.

But Jordie grins. “Yeah, I did,” he says, and slides a hand through the wetness on Jamie’s stomach. He holds the hand up to Jamie, and now his eyes are dark again, hesitant. Jamie feels his stomach drop and opens his mouth.

Jordie’s fingers taste sharp and bitter when he slides them into Jamie’s mouth. Jamie sucks on them, long after all the come is gone, just for the taste of Jordie’s skin and their texture against his tongue. He likes having something in his mouth, he thinks.

When Jordie pulls his fingers out of Jamie’s mouth, he stands up, and something pings with Jamie, alarm and fear. But Jordie only gets a tissue from the nightstand and cleans up the rest of the come on Jamie’s stomach. His touch is sure and soothing.

Jordie climbs onto the bed next to him when he’s done. He takes Jamie’s hands down from over his head and runs his hands over Jamie’s shoulders. “You good?”

Jamie nods. He thinks about saying something about the NHL, but it feels like it would be deflecting—like it would break the moment they have here. Both those things happened this weekend—his draft and whatever this is with Jordie—and he’s not sure which one feels more significant. But he knows he wants to hang onto both.

Jordie pulls off his dress shirt and pants without standing up and leans over to help Jamie out of his. Jamie tries to move, to be of some use, but it’s hard. All his limbs feel like Jell-O. He’s glad when Jordie arranges him under the blanket and drapes himself over him. Jordie’s arms around him are so warm, and Jamie’s so tired, and it’s easy to drift off.

***

Jamie’s a little afraid it’ll stop when they get back to Victoria. Maybe it was just an Ohio thing, a fluke of draft weekend. And, well, he’s gone eighteen years without having sex with Jordie, and he’s been fine, but—he doesn’t want it to stop. He knows it’s weird, but he really, really doesn’t want it to stop.

They fly home the next afternoon, and nothing happens. Jamie tries not to feel lonely when he lies in bed that night, because that would be ridiculous. He’s used to sleeping without Jordie, after all. But the next morning he wakes up to see Jordie opening his door, all quiet so as not to wake the rest of the family. And then Jordie slides into bed with him and joins their mouths together.

They come with their hands wrapped around each other’s cocks, and Jamie is so relieved.

It doesn’t happen all the time. Pretty much always after they’ve been roughhousing, though—they’ll fight over the remote, and Jordie will lean too hard on Jamie and Jamie’s stomach will drop and he’ll gasp a little too loud, and the fight is usually over then. That’s when Jordie will leave the room and Jamie will go to his bedroom and Jordie will find him five or ten or fifteen minutes later, and he’ll hold Jamie down and jerk him off until Jamie is biting a pillow so that he doesn’t moan loudly enough to let the whole house know what they’re doing. Then there are the times Jamie starts to feel hungry for it, and he can’t stop looking at Jordie all day, and Jordie picks up on it but lets it spool out for hours and hours before he finally takes Jamie into a room and lets him drop to his knees and get Jordie’s cock in his mouth the way he wants.

Jamie really, really likes Jordie’s cock in his mouth.

He likes his cock in Jordie’s mouth, too, and Jordie’s mouth on his nipples, and Jordie’s anything on his anything, really. His favorites are the times when Jordie holds him so tight he can hardly move and brings him off like that, not letting up an inch.

***

The first time with restraints comes later that summer.

Jordie’s done the thing where he’s put Jamie’s wrists above his head again and told him to leave them there while he bites at his nipples. Jamie gasps, “Hold my wrists,” and Jordie does, but he has to let them go to slide down and give Jamie a blowjob. Jamie says, “Hold my wrists,” again, even though he knows it’s unreasonable, it’s just—it’s what he _wants,_ Jordie’s hand clenched around his wrists, so that he _knows_ they can’t move no matter what. Jordie pulls off his cock and looks frustrated—not annoyed, that’s a different look, but frustrated because he clearly wants to give Jamie what he wants and doesn’t know how. Jamie doesn’t know how either, just knows that he wants it.

Jordie ends up pulling Jamie’s wrists down to hold in front of him while he sucks him off. But the next time, he shows up with a handful of their mom’s old scarves.

“What?” Jamie asks when Jordie shows them to him.

“Just lie down,” Jordie says. Jamie does, and when Jordie picks up one of his hands and starts tying it to the bedframe with the scarf, Jamie’s breathing picks up.

“Yeah?” Jordie asks.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, his voice barely a sound.

Jordie does the other arm, then moves down to Jamie’s feet. He pauses with his hand around an ankle, thumb rubbing against the skin. “It’s okay if you don’t want—”

“I do,” Jamie says, and Jordie ties his feet to the bed posts.

God. Jamie pulls against the knots, feels them hold. Tight but not painful. He trusts Jordie to do the right knots, knows he probably Googled it or something, can’t think of much right now beyond how confined he feels. How much he can’t move. It’s amazing.

His cock is a rigid bulge under the sweatpants that Jordie didn’t even take off. Jordie’s standing over him, looking down, cheeks pink. “How is it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, nonsensically. Jordie’s eyes are sliding over him, moving without pause over his splayed body, like he really likes what he sees.

“Good,” Jordie says, and then he’s straddling him, digging his thumbs into Jamie’s nipples and brushing their cocks together slightly, just enough to be a tease.

They have to lock the door a lot.

***

Jamie doesn’t go to Texas that year. But he does go to Kelowna to play for the Rockets, and six hours of distance means he hardly gets to see Jordie at all.

He’s used to sleeping alone—it wouldn’t have been safe to spend the night together very often with their parents in the house—but he’s not used to not having Jordie around to make him feel safe, at home. They only had the one summer of hooking up, but the eighteen years before that, Jordie’s always been around.

For the first time in his life, Jamie feels alone.

It’s not that his billet family isn’t great. They’re very welcoming, and his billet mom goes out of her way to make his favorite foods when it seems like he’s down (which is more often than usual, these days). And it’s great to be playing on the Rockets, feeling himself get better by the day, practically.

It’s just…he’s not good at new people. He knows how important it is to bond with a new team, but it takes him so long to feel comfortable around people he doesn’t know. He ends up spending a lot of time Skyping with Jordie, who likes to tell him that he should really be out with his new teammates.

“I know,” Jamie says, and then, deflecting, “How’s your team?”

No matter how much he talks to Jordie, he never feels like he’s had enough. What he really wants is Jordie there, touching him. Even just their sides pressing together while they watch TV on the couch. It’s like constant hunger, the way he wants that.

His family comes up to a couple of games, when they can, when Jordie isn’t playing the same night and his parents can get off of work. The first time they do, Jamie is practically hyperventilating with excitement, so much so that his teammates chirp him about it in the locker room and tell him to calm down, it’s not the playoffs.

When he sees Jordie, the excitement ticks up a notch. He feels like he’s vibrating with the desire to touch him. So much so that he doesn’t even trust himself to touch him—he hugs his mom and dad first, and then Jordie wraps him up in his arms before he can think about it.

It’s so good. And it’s over so much sooner than Jamie wants. Jordie lets him go but keeps a hand on his shoulder, thumb digging into the muscle cap, and the intensity of that pressure makes something settle in Jamie’s chest.

“Ready to show us how you’re kicking ass in Kelowna?” Jordie asks, and their dad’s scolding about language distracts from the blush Jamie can feel spreading up his cheeks, at the thought of what else he wants those hands to be doing.

His family spends the night. But they just have the one hotel room, and it wouldn’t make sense for Jamie to stay there with them. What’s he going to do, sleep with Jordie? There’s no way for Jamie to say how much he wants that, so he goes back to his billet house still buzzing from the win and from how much he didn’t get to do with Jordie, and he jerks off imagining it’s Jordie’s hands on his cock.

October and November are long. And then the team has a day off in early December, not even an optional practice, and Jamie’s out the door before he can even think about it, in the used car he bought for driving to practice and on his way back to Victoria.

He should have called first. He realizes that as he pulls up in front of the house in the early afternoon. But he lets himself in with his key, and there’s Jordie, coming into the front hall, freshly showered and looking surprised and like everything Jamie wants.

“What are you—” Jordie starts to say.

“Are Mom and Dad home?” Jamie asks.

“No, they’re at work,” Jordie says, and that’s all he has time to say before Jamie’s kissing him.

Jordie’s the one responsible for getting them to his bedroom. Jamie isn’t thinking clearly, just needs Jordie’s hands on his body. Can’t even contemplate playing it cool or pretending he hasn’t been desperate for this.

“Been thinking about you so much,” he says while Jordie bites into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

Jordie raises his head and runs his thumb over the bite mark he just left. “While you jerk off?” he breathes into Jamie’s ear.

Jamie nods, closes his eyes. Summons his courage. “While I—finger myself,” he says.

Jordie’s hips jerk against him. “Fuck, Jamie,” he says. “Do you want…”

Jamie nods, lots of times, eyes still shut, his face buried in Jordie’s shoulder.

“Get on the bed,” Jordie says, and Jamie goes, already feeling the floatiness of having given up control.

Jordie refuses to tie him up while he fucks him. “Not the first time,” he says when Jamie whines for it, begs. “We don’t know how it’ll go, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Jamie wants to ask if Jordie’s ever done this before. If this is something Jordie wants, or if it’s just something he’s giving Jamie. If Jordie thinks about how weird this is, the two of them touching in ways they’re definitely not supposed to.

Then Jordie puts a lube-slick finger to Jamie’s hole, and Jamie stops thinking.

It feels strange. Jamie’s done this to himself, but having Jordie do it is totally different. It’s better, in so many ways, because Jamie can give up control and let Jordie do everything, because he can’t anticipate the little ways Jordie will touch him. Because Jordie keeps a soothing hand on his back, stroking in wide circles so that Jamie feels grounded.

Even so, or maybe as a result, Jamie’s shaking and so turned on he can barely breathe by the time Jordie gets three fingers in him. He feels like he’s being broken open in ways Jordie hasn’t done before. Like Jordie’s fingers are really inside him, not just physically.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Jordie whispers in his ear, and oh, Jamie shudders. He’s dripping sweat and precome. He can feel his pulse thrumming in his cock. He manages to nod, and then, oh yeah, the push of Jordie’s cock against that sensitized muscle. Jamie can feel his body opening for it.

“Fuck, Jamie, you’re,” Jordie gasps out, and then all of him is inside, pinioning Jamie and making his cock twitch against his belly. He moans, and Jordie moves a little, and Jamie can feel it scraping all along his insides.

Jordie’s chest comes down on his back. It’s not quite the heavy weight Jamie loves, but it’s enough to make him feel covered. Jordie sets up a rhythm, just slow enough for Jamie to feel every exquisite inch of the drag, and Jamie starts pushing back into it. He can’t handle all the directions that pleasure is coming from, Jordie’s cock feeling like it’s touching his whole body, and then Jordie reaches around and gets a hand on him, and Jamie can barely hold on.

“Good?” Jordie asks, and Jamie sobs out something that might be a yes and shoves back to meet his thrusts.

It’s so much more intense than a handjob or a blowjob. Jamie can feel Jordie’s mouth on his shoulder, Jordie’s chest pressed to his back, his hand on his cock. Jordie’s cock _inside_ him. He’s being held in his brother’s arms and made to feel things he never imagined. He didn’t know he _had_ those nerves and now—now—

“Jordie,” he grates out.

“Yeah, come on, sweetheart,” Jordie says. “Come for me.” And Jamie does, a long rolling wave of an orgasm, feeling like his insides are being pulled out of him with the force of it.

He doesn’t even notice when Jordie comes. He assumes he does, but he’s too lost in his own pleasure-haze to feel it. They collapse on the bed, Jordie on top of Jamie and both of them a sweaty mess. By the time Jamie’s cooled down enough that the sweat and come might have become uncomfortable, Jordie’s cleaned them off with a washcloth and has tucked Jamie into the curve of his body.

Jamie thinks about months of cold, lonely nights in his billet bedroom and wishes he could stay like this forever.

***

They get a few visits like that during the winter. It helps, and regular Skype chats help too, but Jamie still spends the year feeling consistently hungry for Jordie, a constant gnawing ache in his gut pulling him in the direction of Victoria.

Summer’s such a relief. Jamie goes back home to train, and he and Jordie maybe go a little overboard. Jamie’s not sure how Jordie’s been feeling—it’s one of the things he can’t bring himself to ask—but he basically doesn’t want to be out of Jordie’s arms during the first few weeks he’s back, and if it weren’t for the necessity of not letting their parents know they’re fucking, he thinks there are days when they wouldn’t get out of bed.

At least Jenny’s got a place of her own now, and a summer internship, so it’s just the two of them most days while their parents are at work. And the two of them—well, they make thorough use of those days. Jamie thinks the number of times he’s been fucked in his life doubles in the first three days he’s back.

It’s almost a relief not to be called to Texas the next year. He wants to play for the NHL, of course he does, but the thought of Jordie half a continent away from him is enough to keep him from sleeping, some nights.

It might actually be harder to leave home that fall. At least the year before he could tell himself that maybe it would get better; that the ache in his gut that came with missing Jordie would go away after the first month or two. Now he knows that’s a lie.

He does know the team better this year, though, and he feels a little more at home with them. He starts having an actual social life to tell Jordie about when they talk at night.

His family comes out to see a game at the beginning of November. Jordie puts him in a headlock, gives him a noogie, and that kind of thing shouldn’t make him hard but it totally does, now. He’s glad he has a loose sweatshirt on when he straightens up, grinning.

“So glad we could come out to one of your games,” his mom says, squeezing his arm while he’s trying to get his heart rate back down.

“Yeah, had to get this one to cancel a date to get him out here,” his dad says, thumping Jordie in the chest, and the smile falls off Jamie’s face so fast he doesn’t have a hope of stopping it.

He does try. Tries not to look gutted as he talks to his parents about where their seats are, about how the team is playing this year. But he must not do a very good job of it, because Jordie pulls him aside right before he has to go back to the locker room.

“It wasn’t a date,” Jordie says in a low voice as soon as they’re more than fifteen feet away from their parents.

“It’s okay—” Jamie starts to say, but Jordie shakes his head.

“It really wasn’t,” he said. “They were just starting to ask questions. I had to give them something.”

Relief hits the anxiety in Jamie’s stomach and makes it melt. But he still says, still has to say— “It’s okay if it was. I mean, if you want to, for real. It would be okay.”

Jordie looks at him seriously. “Would it?”

Jamie can’t look at him. Jordie’s going to see too much, if he answers this. He tries to say something but chokes on the words.

Maybe Jordie can tell how much he’s struggling, because he presses down harder on Jamie’s shoulder and repeats the question. “Jamie. Would you be okay with that?”

Jamie swallows. Breathes in once, twice. “No,” he says at last, in a voice that’s almost too small to be heard. He feels like he’s turning out his own guts onto the stadium floor. “I wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” Jordie says. Like it’s easy. Like all Jamie had to do was ask.

Jamie doesn’t get it. “Okay…”

“Okay, no other people.” Jordie grins at him. “It’s not like I was, anyway.”

“But—oh.” Jamie feels himself start to smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jordie’s smile turns fond. “Idiot. Like I’d want to.”

Jamie’s smile hurts his cheeks. He feels like he weighs nothing, like he’s full of helium, like he could float up to the ceiling. He wants to kiss Jordie so badly, but he settles for hugging him and burying his face in his shoulder.

“I can’t believe we just had that conversation in a rink hallway,” Jordie mumbles into his ear.

“Where else?” Jamie asks, and clings on even tighter to the feeling of _home._

***

He gets called up to the Stars the next year.

He’s ecstatic. Can barely sit down when he Skypes his family about it after prospect camp. It’s not for sure at that point, but they want him for training camp, and the coaches have been saying really positive things about his improvement. They’ll want him in the Texas Stars if not the Dallas Stars right away, just to have him close by in case they call him up.

The NHL.

He gets to go home again between prospect camp and training camp, and he can see in Jordie’s face, hear it in his voice, tell from his every move how happy he is for him. There’s that, and then there’s what he feels in his touch, during the stolen moments when they’re alone, that tells him how difficult this is going to be.

“We’ll Skype all the time,” he whispers to Jordie, and Jordie tightens his arms around him in an embrace Jamie feels throughout his whole body. It won’t be the same. Jordie won’t be there to hold him.

Jordie can’t kiss him goodbye in the airport. Jamie feels it more keenly than he usually does;: how much they have to pretend to be less than they are in public. He wants that kiss, needs it, feels a physical longing to have that intimacy one more time before he gets on the plane. But he can only press his lips against the side of Jordie’s neck when they hug.

“Go get a better haircut,” Jordie says in farewell, and Jamie loves him more than anyone in the world.

He lands a spot on the opening roster, and it’s amazing, but it’s also hard as hell. NHL hockey really is different from major juniors. Jamie didn’t really get how much, before. It’s what he’s wanted, all these years, but adapting to it means he’s exhausted all the time.

So many people are better than him. He feels like he has to work harder than he ever has in his life just to keep up, and at the same time all of these people are looking at him and expecting him to be good. It’s so hard.

Jamie can feel it pressing on him, all the time. He goes back to his apartment after a tough practice or a losing game and feels it all buzzing uncomfortably under his skin. He wants Jordie there to push it away, to hold him down and make things okay again. But there’s no one in his apartment but him.

Skype sex helps. They couldn’t really do it when Jamie was with his billet family—whispered conversations sometimes, but nothing that would make much noise. Now Jamie can lie on his bed completely naked and let Jordie tell him what to touch, how to touch it. He comes with his fingers up his own ass and his other hand around his cock, while Jordie watches avidly through the camera and jerks himself off a couple thousand miles away.

It helps. But it’s not the same.

By the time Christmas rolls around, Jamie doesn’t care how few days they have off or how many optional practices are scheduled. He’s on a plane as soon as they’re done beating the Blue Jackets, and it’s crazy late when he gets into the airport in Vancouver, but Jordie’s there to pick him up.

“Nice goal,” Jordie says, but what’s shining on his face is so much more than that: it’s all the joy of finally being in the same place, of wanting for so many months and finally, _finally_ having.

Jamie falls into his arms.

They’re in an airport, so it can’t be anything more than a hug, but God, it’s good to have Jordie’s arms around him. To have Jordie’s scent in his nose again. And if the hug is maybe a little too long, well, it’s past midnight in the arrivals wing, and no one’s paying attention anyway. When they separate at last, Jamie can still feel the imprint of Jordie’s arms on him, a warm feeling in his chest that doesn’t go away as they head out to the parking lot.

Jamie’s not planning to do anything more until they’re home. He’s really not. They’re in public, for fuck’s sake, and it’s not like he’s unrecognizable anymore. But they climb into the car and look at each other, and then they’re kissing, making out hot and heavy over the gear shift. Jordie’s tongue is in Jamie’s mouth at last and Jamie is _dying._

They finally break apart, panting, when it becomes clear that they don’t have enough space to do any of the things they really want to do. But Jordie keeps their foreheads pressed together, a hand on Jamie’s cheek. “You are not sleeping in your own bed tonight,” he whispers, and Jamie shakes his head in agreement. Can’t imagine sleeping apart right now.

Jamie has to sneak out of Jordie’s room at six a.m. to avoid being caught by their parents, but they each come twice, and it’s totally worth it.

***

The winter and spring are just…long. Jamie gets to see Jordie over the Olympic break, and it’s fantastic, but after that it’s months before the end of the season.

He never thought it would be this difficult. Yeah, he expected the NHL to be a challenge, but he expected to get used to it—and he does get used to the schedule, the physical rigor of the game. But being alone is always awful. He remembers how he felt those few years before the draft, wanting something he couldn’t name, feeling vaguely desperate for it all the time. Now he knows what it is that he wants, but he still can’t get it, and it’s wearing him thin.

They don’t make the playoffs. Everything in Jamie rebels against even thinking about an upside to that—the day they’re mathematically eliminated, he’s right there with the guys who are basically trying to drown themselves in the showers—but when he goes home that night, he lets himself think, _A few more weeks before I see him again,_ and he falls asleep with that thought like a kernel of warmth in his chest.

A few more weeks and he’ll be able to have Jordie’s hands on him. Be able to lie back and hand everything over, all the stress of competing in a national arena and not letting the team down and all the aching emptiness that comes with living alone a thousand miles from home. Jordie will slide his hands down Jamie’s body and take his cock into his mouth and open him up with his fingers and…

Yeah. Jamie’s looking forward to going home.

He’s exhausted when he walks in the door of his house. His mom picked him up at the airport without Jordie, probably for the very good reason that Jordie didn’t trust himself to be appropriately platonic after so many months apart. But Jamie wants, and has been wanting for so long, and part of him, the part that’s tired and childish and wants its own way, is mad at Jordie for not being there.

Jordie’s not there when Jamie walks into the house, either. Jamie texts him a _Where are you?_ and doesn’t get anything back right away, which just makes him feel worse. It’s not like Jordie has to be there to greet him. Except he does, and Jamie’s trying not to read anything into this. It’s been easy to assume, over the past few years, that Jordie wants him as much as he wants Jordie, but does he really know? He remembers, the way he tries not to very often, how weird this is, how unnatural, how screwy he is for even wanting something like this.

“I’m going to go take a nap before dinner,” he says to his mom, because at least then he can sulk behind a closed door, and she presses a kiss to his cheek and sends him up to his room.

Where Jordie’s waiting, just inside the door.

Jamie barely has the door shut before he’s in Jordie’s arms, being kissed to within an inch of his life. “What,” he tries to say, but there isn’t really any question to ask. No questions left, no problems left, now that he’s here, breathing Jordie’s air and feeling how much Jordie manifestly wants him. As much Jamie he wants Jordie.

Every time Jamie thinks he believes that, he finds doubt creeping back in again. But right now he knows, down to his bones.

He’s hit with a sudden consciousness of how bad it was in Texas. He knew he was having a hard time being alone, but but now that he’s touching Jordie again, the contrast seems vast: how empty things were, how miserable he was without him. How much he needs this.

“I don’t know if I can do that again,” he says into Jordie’s mouth, and Jordie wraps strong arms around him and slides their tongues together in the most affirming sign of his presence Jamie knows.

Jordie doesn’t say anything until they’re fully fucked out, sweaty and panting on the bed. Jamie’s head is in that fuzzy place it gets when the sex is really good and he can just stop thinking. _Floating in a sea of the good neurotransmitters,_ Jordie said to him once, after he read a magazine article about brain chemistry. Jamie’s always liked that picture: that after sex his brain has been set adrift in this warm and beautiful sea.

“I’ve been talking to the Texas Stars,” Jordie says, and Jamie sits up so fast he almost hits Jordie in the head.

“What?” he says. “The Stars? You have?”

“Nothing for sure yet.” Jordie sounds restrained, like he’s holding himself back. “But they’ve been impressed by my play these past few years, and they think maybe I should come to prospect camp.”

Jamie can’t think of any response that’s good enough for that. So he just laughs and rolls on top of Jordie and kisses him some more.

“Texas,” he whispers when he pulls back. He doesn’t know what his face is doing, but he’s sure he looks at least as happy as Jordie does right now.

“Just the AHL team,” Jordie says. “I’d be in Austin, not Dallas.”

_“Texas,”_ Jamie says again, and Jordie says, “Yeah,” eyes going serious, and then his cock is hardening next to Jamie’s, and it’s a good thing Jamie’s already open from the first time because neither of them has the patience for anything except to flip over before Jordie’s sliding into him again, face to face and full up on the kind of happiness that’s so deep it can only be taken seriously.

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad yet,” Jordie says, after. “It’s not for sure. I just…wanted you to know. That I’m working on it.”

“Mm.” Jamie’s face is pressed into Jordie’s arm, and he’ll do anything Jordie asks, if only he’ll come to Texas.

***

The word on prospect camp becomes official in June. Jamie has to work to hide how happy it makes him. Based on his parents’ reactions, he doesn’t do that good a job—but whatever, he’s allowed to be happy about his brother joining him, isn’t he?

“Not joining you,” Jordie says while they’re watching old episodes of CSI. “Just trying out for the team. The other team that you are not on.”

“You should be on mine, though,” Jamie says. “You’re good enough.”

Jordie laughs. “I think you might be biased.” And then, because their parents aren’t home, he tucks Jamie more firmly against his chest and leans in to nuzzle his ear. “One hockey star is enough for the family, I think,” he murmurs. And then Jamie is blushing and squirming too much at the touch to argue.

Their parents aren’t thrilled about the idea of both of them living so far away, but they seem to like the idea of them being in the same place. “It’ll be good for you,” his mom says. “You two have always been so close.”

Jamie laughs so much he has to fake a coughing fit. But then, everything makes him want to laugh these days. Jordie in _Texas._

He doesn’t get to go to prospect camp with Jordie, not being a prospect. But he talks to Jordie every night and _might_ send one or two texts to Morrow, just to see if he’s gotten any word on how things are going.

_Chill,_ Morrow sends back. _I’m sure your brother is doing fine. He’s a Benn, right?_ Which is flattering but not all that reassuring, in terms of actual facts.

The last day of camp, Jamie basically can’t concentrate on anything. He does some cardio and weights to distract himself, but keeps checking his phone every two minutes, just in case Jordie’s found something out.

The text comes in the late afternoon. _Think I’m going to be a star._

Jamie fumbles the phone, then gets it upright again and presses call right away.

“Hey,” Jordie says, the sounds of the rink in the background.

“Jordie.” Jamie’s not even ashamed of how breathless he sounds. “Really?”

“They want me in Austin.” Jordie’s talking quietly, probably because there are other guys around he doesn’t want overhearing, but Jamie can hear the smile in his voice. “They think I can be a solid addition, maybe work my way up to the NHL if things go okay in the next couple of years.”

“Oh my God.” Jamie sits down on the weight bench they keep in the basement. “Why the fuck are you not here to fuck me right now?”

Jordie bursts into laughter, and then they have to hang up before things go in a direction not appropriate for the rink.

***

Jordie comes home after prospect camp, and they have a while to train together before they need to head to Texas. For the first time since Jamie was drafted, he doesn’t have mixed feelings about the start of the season.

“Don’t get roommates in Austin, okay?” he says to Jordie when he spots him looking at apartment listings.

Jordie just gives him a look like he’s an idiot.

They’re still two hours apart in Texas. But two hours isn’t six, and it isn’t a plane ride, and this time they each have their own apartments and cars.

Their schedules are still tight. One of them is on the road more often than not. But a two-hour drive means that if they’re both at home and Jamie has a morning practice, he can get on the road right afterward and be in Austin by early afternoon. It means going to Jordie’s games and then spending the night, letting Jordie tie him up and fuck him open on the king-sized bed he bought for his one-bedroom apartment.

“Shouldn’t be such a spendthrift,” Jamie says sleepily when they’re stretched out across the huge mattress.

Jordie hits him in the side. “Good thing I’m dating a loaded NHL player, then.”

The word shouldn’t be startling, but it is. _Dating._ Are they dating? It feels like less than that, and also like more. They don’t get to go out on dates and send out joint Christmas cards and come out to their friends as a couple. But Jamie can’t imagine having more of his heart and mind invested in any relationship, ever.

“Does it make you sad?” he asks. “That we can’t go out on dates like normal?”

“Yeah,” Jordie says after a moment. And then: “But not you, Jame. You don’t make me sad. Sometimes I wish we could have the things that other couples have. But I would never want them with anyone but you.”

Couple. That’s a new word, too. There are all sorts of new words floating around today. Jamie thinks he likes it.

***

He does wonder sometimes about the dating thing, though. The other guys give him a hard time about it every once in awhile: how he doesn’t pick up, never has any girls to talk about. There’s not a lot he can say to it; somehow, he doesn’t think, “Sorry, my brother is the only person I’ve ever wanted to fuck” is going to cut it. So he just blushes and lets them draw their own conclusions, which are usually that he’s too shy to get any. 

He mentions it to Jordie, one time when it happens, and Jordie says, “We can fix that.”

He draws Jamie into the bedroom, strips him down, ties him up, and proceeds to leave the most colorful and vicious series of hickeys Jamie’s ever had.

“Fuck, Jord, I look like I’ve been mauled,” he says when he looks in the mirror the next morning. Jordie just looks smug.

The guys whoop and cheer when they see him in the locker room that day, and from then on in the story is that Jamie has some secret girlfriend who lives in another town, hence why Bennie’s always disappearing after practice. Jamie’s okay with this story, especially if it’ll keep them from trying to set him up. And if Jordie has to reinforce it by sometimes leaving extra hickeys on his chest, well, that’s just something Jamie will have to bear.

***

It takes a couple of years for Jordie to be called up to Dallas.

They’re good years. Jamie doesn’t mind the drive. He really doesn’t; he knows what it’s like to be unhappy with his circumstances, to be starved for Jordie all the time, to desperately want something to change, and this isn’t that. But he wants Jordie to be called up, and not just so he can have him nearby.

“You’re good enough,” he says to Jordie over the phone, when they’ve just gotten a new recruit from Austin who, in Jamie’s unbiased opinion, can’t hold a candle to Jordie’s skating. “I don’t know why they’re not picking you.”

“If I were good enough, I’d be up there already,” Jordie says mildly. “I’ll get there. Benns get better through practice, right?”

It’s true: Jamie’s seen a huge improvement in his own play over the past few years. It’s starting to get noticed: the coaches are giving him more ice time, and the fans are starting to wear his jersey more often.

“I’m going to get one now before they sell out,” Jordie says at one point.

“Before you have your own to wear, you mean,” Jamie says, and Jordie cuffs him on the shoulder. And then steals one of Jamie’s used jerseys from the locker room next time he comes up to see a game.

They still talk on the phone pretty often even though they see each other a lot more now. They’re on the phone one day in late December 2011, while Jamie’s folding his laundry and Jordie’s (apparently) baking cookies or something ridiculous like that.

“You’re going to ruin your nutrition plan,” Jamie says.

“They’re for the guys,” Jordie says. “I don’t have your winning personality. Have to curry favor somehow.”

“Har har,” Jamie says, because Jordie’s always been way better than him at making friends. “You coming up anytime soon?”

“I was thinking about next week sometime. Maybe playing in the Red Wings game.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Jamie says. “It would be really—” He drops the sock he’s holding. “Wait, what did you say?”

“Well, the coaches suggested it,” Jordie says, all fake casual. “I’m not really sure about it, but hey, if they want me…”

“Jordie.” Jamie’s having trouble breathing. “Jordie. Really?”

“One hundred percent, bro,” Jordie says, and Jamie ruins all his folding work by whooping and throwing the clothes in the air.

***

Having Jordie on his team is amazing.

Jamie’s never been so glad to have a two-bedroom apartment. He doesn’t even know why he has it—the realtor suggested it, and he didn’t care that much, so he went with it—but it means that Jordie can come live with him, no questions asked from suspicious teammates. It means Jordie can be around _all the time._

They’ve never gotten to share a bed on a regular basis before. Occasionally over the past few years, when Jamie would drive down to Austin or Jordie would drive up to Dallas for the night. But this is every night. It’s never having to go to bed alone.

It feels like too much luxury, like Christmas every day or chocolate for every meal. It makes Jamie want to smile all the time.

Their teammates notice. “What the hell did you do to him?” Morrow asks one day, when Jamie and Jordie are talking and laughing together in the locker room.

“What, him?” Jordie says. He gets Jamie into a headlock. “You mean to make him so difficult and impossible to be around? No idea, man. He was born this way.”

Jamie has to kick him for that, and then he has to stop wriggling, so that he doesn’t have a reaction that would be totally inappropriate for the locker room.

Jamie has no idea how Jordie does such a good job of fitting into the team so quickly. Jamie’s been there for over three years, and he feels pretty comfortable around these guys by now, but he’s still not good at the joking and chirping that happens in large groups.

Jordie takes to it like he was made for it. He makes Jamie go out with the rest of the guys, too—which, no matter what Jordie says, Jamie did do when it was just him on the team. Just—not as much. It’s different, and so much better, going out to a bar and knowing that he’ll have Jordie beside him all night. Knowing he can be pressed up against Jordie’s thigh in a booth and no one will think anything of it.

It’s weird, too, though. Jamie’s used to his life with Jordie being this private thing, totally distinct from the life he has with anyone else. Now the two are one and the same. Sure, there are parts of his life with Jordie that no one else gets to see (and so many more of those parts now that they can live in the same place), but Jordie’s also there at the other times, laughing and joking with their teammates and sitting next to Jamie on the plane and changing next to him in the locker room.

It takes Jamie a few weeks to get used to interacting with Jordie in public. To talking to him without letting his voice edge into the one he knows is too intimate, too obvious to use in the open.

He does get used to it, though. And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

There are other benefits, too. A couple of months into the new year, Jordie collapses next to him on the couch. “Let’s try something new,” he says.

The new thing turns out to be Jordie telling Jamie what to do. Not in bed—they already do that. But for a few hours at a time, during a perfectly normal morning or afternoon. Jordie tells him to do stuff like reply to his email or sit on the couch and read a book, stuff he’d be doing anyway. Or slightly weirder things, like go outside and walk around the building once or go to the store and buy the first thing he sees that he wants to eat.

It makes Jamie hard. He’ll sit there on the couch, reading, and think, _I’m doing this because Jordie told me to,_ and his breath will come faster and heat will stir in his gut. It makes it awkward when he goes to the store. He’ll look around and think that no one there knows he’s there on Jordie’s orders, that he’s _obeying._ It’s like he has a blanket of Jordie around him that no one else gets to see. He learns to wear long jackets when he goes out.

He’s never quite sure exactly when Jordie will end it. They’ll set a general window—from lunch until dinnertime, say—but Jordie gets to call the stop time. He likes to tease Jamie with it: he’ll come into the room a few times while Jamie’s answering email or watching TV or lifting weights and trail his fingers over Jamie’s back or neck. It makes Jamie’s skin tingle and his eyes flutter closed as he wonders if it’s time. Jamie doesn’t want it to end, loves it when they do this, but he also knows what happens when it ends, and he wants that too.

But he doesn’t have to decide. That’s the great part.

He knows it’s over when Jordie kisses him, and Jamie always melts into the kiss, pliable and trembling after hours of waiting. Jordie takes him to bed and presses kisses all over his skin and whispers, “You did great, Jame, you were so good for me,” and Jamie’s leaking and coming in about three minutes flat.

Usually Jordie initiates the obedience thing, and Jamie likes that. But he can start it too—just has to lean against Jordie and say, “Orders?” and then they’re off.

They do it every couple of weeks or so, and it makes everything in Jamie’s life seem lighter. He gets to turn off his head, the part that makes him doubt himself, and just follow orders. Orders he knows will be safe, and good, because it’s Jordie. Everything in his life with Jordie is safe and good, and Jamie never wants any of it to change.

Then the lockout happens.

***

They spend all summer hoping it won’t happen. Jamie follows the hockey news obsessively, and Morrow keeps him filled in on what he hears from Toews and Crosby. Sometimes it looks like things might clear up, but by the time September rolls around, it’s pretty clear they won’t be starting on time.

“You should go,” Jordie says when Jamie gets the offer from Germany.

“Of course you’d say that,” Jamie says.

“What do you mean?”

Jamie stretches out on the couch, where he’s reading his email on his phone with his feet in Jordie’s lap. “Because you always want what’s best for me.”

Jordie looks over at him, lips quirking. “I _do_ always want what’s best for you.”

“No, I mean…” Jamie isn’t sure what he means. Only that he means it. “You want the best for, like, my career and stuff, even if it means…”

“What?” Jordie rubs his hand over Jamie’s ankle.

Jamie looks at his phone so he doesn’t have to look at Jordie. “Dallas really sucked without you, you know.”

Now he does look at Jordie, and he sees Jordie’s eyes darken. Jordie pushes Jamie’s feet off his lap and lowers himself over Jamie, so they’re both stretched full-length on the couch with Jordie on top. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Jordie says, resting his face on his hands on top of Jamie’s chest. “This is a cool opportunity, but that doesn’t mean anything if it’s not something you want to do.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Jamie says. Because, yeah: going to Germany would be cool. “But you won’t be there.”

“You know it’s not going to change anything,” Jordie says. “You know I’ll still be here when you get back.”

“No.” He does know. But he feels himself going tense, which almost never happens when Jordie’s flush against him like this, holding him down. “I’m just worried that…doesn’t it bother you when we’re apart?”

“Jamie.” Jordie hikes himself up a few inches, so that their faces are closer together. “Of _course_ it does. Did you think it doesn’t?”

Jamie feels himself flush. “I don’t know,” he mumbles. Only that Jordie always seems so much more put together than Jamie. So much less needy.

“I would obviously rather you stay,” Jordie says. “I mean, hell, you’re the best thing in my life, you know?” He goes a little pink, too, and Jamie feels ridiculously pleased about that.

“I guess I…didn’t know that,” Jamie says.

“You are.” Jordie leans down to kiss his earlobe, blowing hot breath across it. “You are, Jame.”

God, Jamie wants to stay like this forever. And that’s the problem. “I don’t want to miss you again,” he says.

Jordie pulls back and looks like he’s thinking for a minute. “I don’t want to tell you to go,” he says finally. “I mean, hell, I’ll like it better if you’re here, obviously. But I don’t want you to stay for me. And I don’t want you to not go because you’re afraid.”

He pauses for a moment. Then: “Unless you want to not go because you’re afraid, of course,” Jordie says. “In which case, I’m fine with it.”

Jamie has to laugh. Then Jordie leans down to press a kiss against his neck, and they end up making out for a while and the question gets dropped.

Jamie’s agent emails him a few days later for an answer, though, and Jamie only hesitates for a few minutes before writing back. Yeah. He’ll do it. It really is a cool opportunity, and how long could it last, anyway?

***

The lockout lasts way longer than anyone expected.

Not as long as the ’04-’05 lockout, thank God. But Jamie keeps calling Jordie late at night, early evening Jordie’s time, and Jordie keeps telling him, yeah, it’ll probably be over in a few weeks. And then that keeps not happening.

It’s not as awful as it could be, being in Germany without Jordie. Maybe it’s because it feels so temporary: not like Jamie’s first year in Dallas, when he thought his whole career might be like that. But as the lockout drags on and the expected agreements keep evaporating, it gets harder and harder to be alone.

He’s isolated by language, by culture, by not having anyone to touch him. Skype sex is not the same. He misses having Jordie lay him out on the bed and tie him up and let him give over all control. Misses Jordie.

Then the lockout ends, and Jamie _still_ doesn’t get to go home.

Some kind of contract dispute. Jamie leaves most of it to his agent—just makes it clear that he really wants to get home, the sooner the better. Yeah, he’ll take a monetary penalty if need be, even though his agent seems pretty clear on wanting to avoid that. Jamie wishes he weren’t—wishes his agent were as desperate as he is, as willing to pull out all the stops.

By the time things get resolved, he’s missed the first few games of the season. He books the first possible flight and rolls into DFW Airport late in the day after two layovers, and the sight of Jordie waiting for him at the arrivals bay is the most glorious thing he’s ever seen. He walks up to him, leans his head on his shoulder, and lets him take all of his weight.

“Good to be home?” Jordie asks.

“Take me to bed,” Jamie says, and Jordie does: gets him home from the airport and bundles him into their bed, curls around him under their down comforter and lets him sleep.

The team cheers when Jamie walks into the locker room the next day. Jamie blushes, ducks his head, lets them all slap him on the back. And there’s Jordie, right next to him, putting his hand on Jamie’s shoulder and rubbing a thumb against the back of his neck where no one will see.

It feels like coming home.

***

It’s not the best season the Stars have ever had, but it’s a good season for Jamie.

He’s playing really well. Even after missing the first few games, he’s leading the team in points and in goals. And maybe it’s related to that, maybe it’s not, but the guys seem more comfortable chirping him than they have in the past. A couple of years ago, Jamie might have minded that, but now it makes him feel like he’s really one of the team.

For a while they chirp him about apparently having lost his out-of-town girlfriend. Then Jordie starts leaving hickeys again, and they chirp him about those.

“Never see you picking up,” Daley says one day when Jamie comes into the locker room with a deep-purple spot on his shoulder that it makes him blush to show, but he doesn’t hide. “Hiding a girl from us again?”

“I just don’t like that stuff to be public,” Jamie says, and he ducks his head as the guys whoop and speculate why he’s hiding her.

“I’m sworn to secrecy,” Jordie says when they ask him. “But let’s just say…Jamie’s got good taste.”

Jamie’s face will never be normal-colored again.

“How come they don’t give _you_ a hard time about this?” he asks Jordie when they’re back in their apartment. “You pick up exactly as much as I do.”

Jordie stretches his arms and cracks his fingers. “Air of mystery,” he says.

“Unfair,” Jamie says.

Jordie grins and backs him into a wall. “I’ll show you unfair,” he says, which doesn’t make sense, but complaining is the last thing on Jamie’s mind.

It’s all okay, though: he doesn’t mind getting chirped by the team. Especially when he can look across the locker room and catch Jordie’s eye, and Jordie can give him a hot look that makes Jamie shiver and know he’s going to be spread out on a bed and taken apart a few hours from now.

So things are good. The season ends, and they don’t make the playoffs, but Jamie’s in a good rhythm with the team; he’s in a good rhythm with Jordie.

Then Tyler Seguin gets traded.

***

Jamie’s thought a bunch of times over the past few years about how weird it is, what he has with Jordie. That not only is he sleeping with his brother, but his brother is the only person he’s ever wanted to sleep with. He’s been attracted to other people, guys and girls, but not in a serious way. No one else has made him feel the gut-level desperate pull that Jordie does.

That’s why he has no idea what to do with his feelings for Tyler Seguin.

Jamie’s not sure what to make of him at all at first. He goes to pick Tyler up from the airport because management asked him to—and he knows what that means, has been wearing the A, knows the team is looking for leadership to fill the vacuum left by Brenden. Is happy to step into it, if that’s what they want from him. Is perfectly willing to make this new guy feel at home, even if what he’s heard from the media about him over the past few years isn’t great.

Tyler’s not quite what Jamie expected. There’s an uncertainty about him Jamie wouldn’t have guessed at from the way the media talks about him, or from watching his game play. But then, he was just traded from the team he helped take to a Stanley Cup. The team he probably thought he’d stick with for a while. And from what Jamie’s heard, it doesn’t seem like this was a “we want you but don’t have room in the salary cap” trade. Tyler’s probably pretty bummed about this.

He has a big smile for Jamie and Jordie when they meet him, though. Jordie seems to accept it easily enough, shaking Tyler’s hand with a smile in return. Jamie’s not sure what makes him doubt Tyler’s cheerfulness: something in his eyes, maybe. Something about the way he looks at Jamie and Jordie when he thinks they aren’t looking back, little worried glances.

But he’s complicated. Jamie can’t quite get a read on him. Tyler starts joking with them right away, making them both laugh during the trip back to their building, and Jamie can see how the guy before him could be the upbeat party boy the media talked about. But—that’s not all that’s there.

Tyler has an apartment in the same building as theirs, it turns out. They drop him off at his door, and there’s something about Tyler’s pause, when he stands in the doorway of his empty, furniture-less apartment, that makes Jamie invite him up to theirs.

Tyler eventually gets furniture, but still, he keeps turning up at Jamie and Jordie’s door. Jamie’s a little annoyed at first by how often it keeps happening. It’s not that he doesn’t like Tyler, but it means he and Jordie have to work to make both bedrooms look at least passably lived in, and they have a lot less sex on the couch than they used to. Even if they lock the deadbolt, “Give us five minutes while we mop up our come and put our clothes back on” isn’t really an acceptable thing to say to the guy you don’t want to know you’re fucking.

“I guess this is more sanitary, anyway,” Jamie says, when they relocate to the bed after making out on the couch, and Jordie laughs.

Tyler gets in the middle of things, also. Like the thing where Jamie and Jordie usually curl up on the couch together to watch movies, Jamie leaning back against Jordie’s chest with Jordie’s arms around him. When Tyler’s there, he plops down in between them, like he has no idea he’s interrupting anything.

Which of course he doesn’t. But still.

He’s kind of baffling, too. Like the way he’s cuddly with them right off the bat. Jamie doesn’t understand that; it’s taken him years to feel comfortable slapping his teammates on the back, like it’s a natural thing and not something he has to perform to fit in. And here’s Tyler, barely in the state for two weeks, slumping down during _Harold and Kumar_ until his head is in Jordie’s lap and his feet are in Jamie’s.

Jamie should mind that more. But it’s not like Tyler’s feet are heavy, and it’s kind of nice, having someone touching him, even if it isn’t Jordie.

“I love this part,” Tyler says sleepily when Neil Patrick Harris shows up on a tiger, and Jamie slides a hand around his ankle.

***

So, okay, Jamie doesn’t mind having Tyler around. It’s hard to mind someone who’s so happy. Tyler can make a joke about anything, and half the time he laughs at his own jokes harder than anyone else does. Maybe that should be annoying, but it’s so unselfconscious that Jamie can only find it charming.

Jordie seems to like having him around, too. He lets Tyler fall asleep on his shoulder when they’re all on the couch together, and maybe Jamie should be jealous of that, but it’s kind of nice. The way the three of them end up all jumbled together. It’s not leading anywhere, the way it would be if it were just Jamie and Jordie, but there’s a warmth to Tyler’s casual touches that Jamie finds himself enjoying almost as much.

So yeah, Tyler’s funny and silly and full of laughter, and, God, the way his nose crinkles when he giggles makes Jamie want to melt a little. And then there’s his hockey—it would be impossible for Jamie not to notice the way they click together on the ice. So when he realizes he’s thinking about Tyler’s smile sometimes when he’s not there, and admiring the cut of his abs and his jaw across the locker room, it’s not a huge surprise.

It’s just surface-level stuff, anyway. Not like what he has with Jordie, where it goes down deep and feels like it’s burned into the bottom of whatever makes Jamie who he is.

“Tyler’s pretty cute, huh?” Jordie says one day when Tyler’s just left their apartment after kicking both of their asses at Mario Kart.

Jamie cuts a glance his way. Jordie looks kind of amused. “Eh,” Jamie says, and he means it. Yeah, Tyler’s smile makes his stomach flip sometimes, but it’s not like he’s about to mess things up with Jordie over it. He’s not sure there’s anything that would be worth him messing things up with Jordie. Up to and including nuclear apocalypse, planetary war, and an infinite number of cute linemates with great smiles.

***

Tyler isn’t always happy. Jamie tries to think of him that way for a while, because it’s easier, but the uncertainty he saw on that first day in the airport wasn’t a lie. He starts to get more glimpses of it, not because Tyler’s feeling it more, he doesn’t think, but because Jamie’s learning to read him better. He starts to see how sometimes Tyler uses his jokes as a defense mechanism, like he thinks no one will want to be around him unless he’s funny. How sometimes he’s sad and is extra loud to make up for it. How his energy is often a front for something else he doesn’t want people to see.

He’s like that one day in December, when they’re in the locker room after a tough practice. Tyler kept messing up this one drill, something he can usually do in his sleep, and Jamie knows he was just getting in his own head about it.

He tries to stop Tyler afterward, talk to him about it, but Tyler brushes him off with a grin and a, “Next time, eh?” and goes and starts joking with Demers.

Jamie can hear him laughing across the locker room, but it’s a little too loud, and he’s moving a little frenetically, not letting his attention stay on anything for very long. Like he’s looking for an anchor point and doesn’t know where to find one. And Jamie thinks, _That’s how I look when I need Jordie to hold me down._

As soon as he thinks that, he gets a picture of Tyler lying underneath Jordie, panting. It makes Jamie’s stomach go hot, his arms and legs kind of tingling and wow, what if they were naked? What if Jordie were _inside_ Tyler and—

Jamie shoves the thoughts down. But he’s shaken and scattered while he packs up his stuff. Jordie must be able to tell, because he leans over and says in a low voice, “Orders or bed?”

“Bed,” Jamie says firmly, because he wants Jordie to hold him down _right now._ He has to bite down on the next thing he wants to say, which is, _Let’s invite Tyler._

***

He thinks about it, though, when Jordie’s fucking him. How Tyler might fall apart under Jordie’s hands. How—how Tyler might fall apart if it were _Jamie_ fucking him.

He’s never wanted that with anyone besides Jordie before. Never even wanted to fuck Jordie, though Jordie’s offered. He likes the feeling of Jordie plowing into him, of taking everything Jordie has to give him. But with Tyler, he imagines being the one to open him up, to make him shudder as Jamie’s cock slides into him and…

Jamie throws his head back and comes against Jordie’s stomach.

He figures this will all probably go away. For one thing, he doesn’t think Tyler’s gay—if the media stories have any grain of truth in them, he knows Tyler hasn’t always been cool with the idea of guys being into him. So Jamie will just ride these feelings out.

As long as Jordie doesn’t find out first.

Jamie does his best not let anything show. But Tyler doesn’t make it easy. Jamie knows he’s not interested—knows he treats everyone like this, can see that for himself—but when Tyler lays his head on Jamie’s shoulder after a few beers at a bar, it makes the base of Jamie’s spine go fizzy. He finds himself looking at Tyler too long and too hard when Tyler’s telling a story, jumping up too quickly to answer when Tyler knocks on their door. Smiling back a little too broadly. Whenever that happens, he tries not to look at Jordie right away to see if he noticed, because he doesn’t want to seem guilty. But it’s hard.

It’s hard in a different way when he sees Jordie and Tyler being affectionate. Jamie comes back from checking his email during a movie night—his agent had sent him a new sponsorship contract, and he had promised to look it over before the next day—and he finds the two of them snuggled up together on the couch. There’s nothing weird about that—it would be weirder if Tyler _hadn’t_ snuggled up to Jordie as soon as they sat down—but there’s just something about how they’re sitting. Tyler’s head is on Jordie’s shoulder and his arm is around Jordie’s waist and Jordie has a hand in his hair, just very lightly stroking the short, fine hairs at Tyler’s nape. Tyler’s eyes are half-lidded in pleasure, like he’s paying more attention to Jordie’s fingers than to the TV. Jamie sees them and thinks, _They look like such a good couple._

Then his stomach swoops and he catches himself because he’s not jealous, exactly, but he still feels funny, like he’s not getting enough air. He wonders if—if maybe he should go away and let them have this. But then Tyler spots him and tilts his head towards him and smiles, eyes still half-closed, and Jamie’s breath stutters in his chest. He staggers over to the couch, because that’s obviously what Tyler wants, and Tyler reaches out a hand to pull him down. He doesn’t let go of Jamie’s hand once he’s sitting: keeps their fingers tangled up, his thumb rubbing slowly over Jamie’s. He pulls Jamie over so that they’re all three cuddled together and Tyler’s a long line of heat all down Jamie’s side.

Jamie can’t concentrate on anything else all night long.

***

After that he tries really hard to be better, because he feels like he’s going over a cliff. He doesn’t even know what’s at the bottom—just that he feels like he’s falling.

It’s a week or so later that he and Tyler end up being the last two out at a bar. Jordie didn’t come out after the game tonight—he told Jamie he was feeling tired, told him to go on without him, and maybe that means Jamie’s been hiding his feelings better than he thought, if Jordie isn’t jealous of Jamie being out with Tyler without him. Which he shouldn’t be. Because Jamie isn’t going to do anything. But God, the brightness of Tyler’s eyes after a few drinks.

For a while at the beginning of the evening Jamie manages to be good about avoiding Tyler, talking with the other guys who came out with them. But Tyler just gets brighter-eyed and gigglier as the evening goes on, and Jamie can’t stay away. By the end of the night it’s just the two of them in the booth.

Tyler pauses his story about the time he and Brownie got lost in a tiny Massachusetts town to yawn widely. “Oh man, it’s late,” he says. “Cab it home?”

“You don’t want to pick up tonight?” Jamie says, ignoring the little unfair jerk in his stomach at the idea of it. Of Tyler with anyone. But it would help him, to see that, to remember that Tyler isn’t feeling this the way he is—

Tyler glances around the room for a second. “Nah. Let’s just go back.”

It’s kind of chilly for Dallas, and Tyler stands close to Jamie while they wait for a cab. It’s nothing to read into: Tyler’s always been handsy. Up till a couple of weeks ago, it wouldn’t have made Jamie’s blood thrum too close to the surface of his skin.

Tyler leans in and presses his nose to Jamie’s shoulder, slips his hand into the pocket of Jamie’s coat, and Jamie can’t breathe.

“So I think our powerplay is doing better,” Jamie says, maybe a little too loud.

“Yeah. I still want to get faster, though,” Tyler says sleepily into his shoulder, and Jamie can feel the warmth of his breath.

Jamie breathes through his teeth. Fuck. He just needs to get home, wait until morning when Jordie will probably fuck him or blow him or jerk him off or something, but he’s hard right now underneath his coat. Can smell Tyler’s shampoo.

“You didn’t pick up tonight, either,” Tyler says, like they’re continuing a conversation, and Jamie’s whole body feels ripe. Swelling. Ready.

“Look, there’s a cab,” he says, and pulls himself away from Tyler.

Tyler slides into the cab after him, and he seems like he’s going to snuggle against his shoulder again—it would be a Tyler thing to do—but Jamie pulls away before he can touch him. He darts a glance at Tyler, after, and Tyler looks a little taken aback. He looks over at the window before Jamie can meet his eyes. It makes Jamie ache, not just to touch him, but to make him feel better, to let him know that this isn’t a rejection of him. Just—circumstance. Just that Jamie can’t.

“Practice tomorrow,” Tyler says.

“Yeah.”

“That’ll be good.” Tyler’s voice is a little higher than usual.

“Hey.” Jamie puts his hand on Tyler’s shoulder, not really thinking, and Tyler freezes with his eyes on Jamie.

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him right now. Leaving aside the cab driver who would probably sell the story to a tabloid for a hundred thousand bucks. Tyler looks like he needs to be kissed.

And Jamie can’t.

He lets his hand drop. Tyler looks back over at his side of the car, and they don’t really talk for the rest of the trip back.

***

Jamie doesn’t sleep all that well that night. Tyler seems normal the next day, and so does Jordie, but Jamie can’t seem to talk to anyone without stumbling over his words.

Jordie pulls him into the bedroom when they get home. “Want to?”

He usually doesn’t ask—Jamie likes it better when he doesn’t ask—and the fact that he does this time makes Jamie antsy. Makes him want Jordie crushing him to the mattress. He nods.

They make out for a while, slow, easy, until Jamie’s relaxed into it, and then Jordie raises his head. “So, you’ve got a thing for Tyler, huh?”

Jamie freezes. Not that he was moving before, but this is different. He stops breathing. “Jordie—” he chokes out.

“Sh.” Jordie runs a hand through his hair. “It’s okay.”

“It’s just a crush,” Jamie says in a small voice. “It doesn’t mean I don’t…”

“I know.” Jordie leans in, presses a kiss by his ear. “You think I haven’t thought about you fucking him?”

“Oh fuck,” Jamie breathes, and his cock, which was starting to wilt, goes to full mast again.

“I bet he’d look so pretty under you,” Jordie whispers in Jamie’s ear, and he shifts his leg so it’s pressing into Jamie’s cock. “I bet he’d make such pretty noises when you were opening him up.”

Jordie’s leg rocks down against Jamie’s cock, and Jamie’s moaning, straining up for more.

“I could watch,” Jordie says. His leg is going faster now, and Jamie can feel the heat of Jordie’s words and Jordie’s touch spreading throughout his whole body. “I could sit there and watch as your cock plunges into him, opens up his pretty ass and makes him beg for it. Watch as it gets to be too much for both of you, watch him spurt on your belly, you come inside him…”

“Fuck,” Jamie grates out, and shoves up against Jordie’s leg and comes inside his shorts.

Later, when Jordie’s come on his stomach and they’re basking in the afterglow: “He’s probably not even interested,” Jamie says.

“Right,” Jordie says dryly.

***

The idea feels too big, whenever Jamie tries to think about it. The possibility that Tyler might actually want either him or Jordie. And then the even more improbable scenario where he might be okay with both of them.

He’s feeling jittery and overwhelmed the next day after practice, and he goes up to Jordie as soon as they’re back in their apartment. “Orders?” he says.

Jordie looks at him speculatively for a moment. “Go watch the Nature Channel.”

It calms Jamie down, sitting there and watching boring documentaries about coral and prairie dogs on Jordie’s orders. It doesn’t turn him on as much as it sometimes does—he feels too shaky for that. But it’s nice, not having to think for a while.

Until, that is, there’s a knock at the door.

It’s Tyler, because of course it’s Tyler. He has Marshall with him. “Just about to take this guy for a walk,” he says. “You guys want to come?”

Jamie turns his head to look. He thinks that’s allowed, as long as he’s still on the couch with the TV on. Tyler has this really hopeful look on his face. But—

“Can’t, have a few things to do,” Jordie says. “But Jamie will probably go with you, right, Jamie?”

Jamie flicks his eyes to Jordie. Jordie’s looking at him pointedly. He raises an eyebrow, just a little.

“Um, sure,” Jamie says. “Let me just get my shoes.”

His skin feels like it’s buzzing as he follows Tyler out of the apartment. It’s a good buzz, the kind he usually gets when Jordie gives him orders that he knows are leading up to good sex. But this time the order is to hang out with Tyler. Jordie ordered him to be out here, walking with Tyler.

It’s not like anything is going to happen. Just because he and Jordie got off thinking about it doesn’t mean Tyler would be on board. But it still feels exciting to be walking alongside Tyler on the street and to know it’s because Jordie ordered him to.

“You okay?” Tyler asks when they’re near the park, and Jamie wonders how much quieter than usual he’s been to make Tyler ask that.

“Yeah,” he says, and his smile doesn’t feel at all forced.

“Great.” Tyler sticks out the tip of his tongue a little. “Let’s play.”

Tyler grabs a ball and runs ahead of Marshall into the field. Marshall runs after him, barking, and Tyler turns and throws the ball to Jamie. “Save yourself!” he calls.

Jamie finds himself quickly overrun by an eager, slobbering dog. “Douchebag!” he calls back to Tyler as he tries to extricate himself from Marshall’s limbs.

They toss the ball back and forth for a while, and even let Marshall go after a few, until he’s panting and they’re both dripping sweat under their jackets. “Gonna get you, Marshall!” Tyler yells, and he plows forward into the dog and Jamie at the same time, tumbling them against a wall.

Marshall’s smart enough to extricate himself before the impact. But Jamie’s back hits the wall—no pain, just the whoosh as air leaves his lungs—and Tyler crashes into his front.

For a moment they’re pressed close together. Then Tyler steps back, and they’re still close together, but Tyler’s eyes are looking away, flicking to the side.

“Hey,” Jamie says, and this time he puts his hand around Tyler’s wrist.

Tyler’s eyes dart over to him. His cheeks are flushed from exertion, and he looks, God, so beautiful. But hesitant, almost frightened. Like he’s afraid Jamie’s going to push him back.

Tyler shouldn’t ever have to look like that.

Jamie puts his other hand around the back of his neck and pulls him into a kiss.

Tyler melts into it right away. He makes this little high-pitched sound in the back of his throat and curves into Jamie’s body, and Jamie slides his arms around Tyler’s back. He likes the way Tyler bends into him, the way he’s pliable under Jamie’s hands. The way he lets Jamie take his weight.

It feels nothing like kissing Jordie. Tyler doesn’t feel like a warm blanket Jamie wants to wrap himself up in. It’s more like a spark, new and sharper and, fuck, so good it’s making his toes curl.

They shouldn’t do this here. They maybe shouldn’t do this at all. But Jamie doesn’t want to stop.

He does, finally—pulls his mouth away just far enough that he can see Tyler’s eyes. They’re bright and wanting and maybe still a little bit wary, like Tyler isn’t sure what comes next.

Jamie isn’t sure, either. “Take you to dinner tonight?” he asks.

Tyler’s smile makes his whole face happy. “Yeah,” he says.

Tyler’s giddy on the way back to their building. Jamie’s quieter. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, what’s going to happen, whether it’s okay what he just did. He’s trying not to let the guilt and fear that are worming their way into his gut cut through the happy haze of Tyler’s lips on his.

He leaves Tyler at his apartment. Jordie looks up when Jamie enters their living room.

“I kissed him,” Jamie says.

He’s not sure what he expected, but it’s not the smile that spreads over Jordie’s face. Jordie steps up to him and presses his mouth to Jamie’s, licking deep until Jamie has the sense he’s trying to taste the kiss that was just there before.

Jamie gives himself over to it. Such a different kiss. One he wants just as much, has been a vital part of his life so many years now.

They’re panting when they break apart. “Awesome, Jame,” Jordie says against his lips.

“It’s not.” Jamie pulls back a little. “He doesn’t know. About us.”

“So you tell him,” Jordie says.

“But—”

“It’s Tyler,” Jordie says. “Even if he’s not into it, you really think he’s going to freak out? Treat us differently?”

“He might,” Jamie says. “He might not want to come over here anymore.”

Jordie’s silent for a minute, acknowledging the truth of that. He runs his hands up Jamie’s arms. “Yeah. He might. But I think we have to find out.”

Yeah. They do. Especially after what just happened. Jamie drops his head onto Jordie’s shoulder. “Can’t you be the one to tell him?”

Jordie pauses at that. “I could,” he says. “But you’re the one he kissed.”

“I know,” Jamie mumbles into his neck. It has to be him. It should be him, and only him. If Tyler’s going to freak out, it’s not fair to give him more of an audience.

***

Jamie doesn’t think he’s ever been so nervous before a date.

“Your last date was in high school,” Jordie says. “You telling me you weren’t terrified?”

“It never mattered this much before,” Jamie says, and then he looks at Jordie, afraid, because what if Jordie doesn’t want Tyler to matter to him that much? What if Jordie’s—

“You go get ’im,” Jordie says, and Jamie grins weakly.

Tyler’s in a good mood at dinner. He seems to get that Jamie’s nervous, and he does what he always does so well: he makes jokes and gets Jamie laughing so much about the waiter’s mustache that he forgets how terrified he is. And of course, like anytime Tyler tells jokes, he starts giggling himself. Jamie was not made to withstand the way Tyler looks when he giggles. He wants to kiss him right across the restaurant table.

There are actual important things they should be talking about. But it’s so much easier to talk about the team, the latest episode of _The Walking Dead,_ the travesty that is American Thanksgiving, and never actually get to the scary stuff.

At one point, Tyler asks, “Does Jordie know we’re out tonight?” and Jamie swallows his water wrong.

“Yeah, he, uh, suggested it first,” Jamie says, which is sort of true. Tyler smiles really big at that, like he was worried about Jordie’s approval.

As if Jordie is the one whose approval is on the line here.

Jamie can’t make himself talk about it, though. They eat their steaks, and they pay their bill (well, Jamie does, because he does know how to treat a date even if he hasn’t been on one since high school), and they go outside without having talked about anything that wouldn’t have come up at a normal teammate dinner.

“Want to take a walk?” Tyler asks, even though they’re in a random boring suburban Dallas neighborhood.

“Sure,” Jamie says.

He’s jittering. He can feel it with every step. Maybe Tyler’s nervous, too, because after they’ve been walking in silence for a minute, he darts Jamie a tentative smile and says, “So, you like guys too, huh?”

Jamie practically chokes on his own tongue. “Yeah,” he says roughly. “I mean, girls, too, I guess? But definitely guys.”

“I was hoping you did,” Tyler said. Jamie can see the dimple in his cheek. “But I figured I probably wasn’t that lucky.”

_You should always be that lucky,_ Jamie thinks, but doesn’t say. He wants to hold Tyler’s hand. Probably shouldn’t, out on a Dallas street. Hockey may not be huge here, but they’re still the most recognizable guys on the team.

“Can we go back to your place?” Jamie asks.

Tyler’s smile could light the whole neighborhood. “Sure,” he says.

***

They’re two feet inside Tyler’s front door when Tyler kisses him again.

Jamie’s surprised enough to open his mouth into it. He wasn’t going to do this—was going to talk to Tyler before anything happened—but God, the feel of Tyler’s lips against his. Tyler’s sipping shallowly at his mouth, tugging on Jamie’s stomach with each slick slide of their lips, and Jamie’s getting dizzy.

“God,” he moans, and sticks his tongue into Tyler’s mouth.

Tyler opens to it greedily. He presses into Jamie’s body, and Jamie’s hands come up automatically against the strong muscle of his back. Tyler’s date-night shirt is soft and thin, and he can feel the heat of Tyler’s skin beneath it. He wants to pull Tyler tight enough against him that there’s no space at all, and so he does, and Tyler moans and kisses him sloppy and pants against his mouth.

Jamie’s body’s alight with it. He’s having trouble getting enough air. He’s hard already, cock heavy and thrumming, and Tyler’s moving against him just a little. Just enough to short out all the connections in his brain and send his mouth to Tyler’s neck where he can nip on the skin. Tyler tilts his head back and lets out these little breathy gasps.

“Jamie,” he says, and rolls his hips harder. Jamie can feel the hot hardness of Tyler’s cock against his, and it makes everything brighter, fuzzier. He slides his hands down to Tyler’s ass and brings him in tighter. Tyler writhes in his arms and licks at his ear and slides his hands under Jamie’s shirt and—

“No, wait,” Jamie says.

Tyler whines. He’s hot and panting in Jamie’s arms. Jamie can see the sheen of sweat on his neck. He pulls back, just enough to see Tyler’s face, and Tyler’s eyes are heavy-lidded and alert at the same time. Like he loves this. Like he wants it to keep going.

God, does Jamie know the feeling.

“You okay?” Tyler whispers, breath brushing Jamie’s lips.

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “I just, um. Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“’Course.” Tyler takes his hand and leads him to the couch. He’s still bright-eyed, like he’s so happy to have Jamie here, so happy about what they’ve been doing, and Jamie’s about to—

He could just not tell him. He thinks about it for about half a second: about pushing Tyler down into the couch cushions and stripping him and exploring every inch of his body. About the way Tyler’s face might look when he comes. But he promised Jordie, he said he would tell, and even if he hadn’t—he couldn’t do that to Tyler. Not with how happy Tyler looks right now.

He glances at Tyler’s face again as he sits down, at where Tyler’s lips are red and swollen and a little parted. He almost misses the couch cushion.

“It’s, uh,” he says when he’s seated. Tyler’s sitting facing him, a little space between their bodies, but still holding his hand. “There’s just a thing I have to tell you.”

“Shoot,” Tyler says.

Jamie pulls his hand out of Tyler’s. He liked the way Tyler was holding it, fingers moving warmly against Jamie’s palm, but he just—doesn’t want to see Tyler take his hand away, when he tells him what he has to tell him. Wants to be the one to do it first. “It’s about me and Jordie.”

Tyler grins and pokes Jamie in the knee. “Is this about your secret yeti blood?”

Jamie forces a laugh. It doesn’t really work. “No, um,” he says, and then his throat closes up. He’s not ashamed of it, but he’s never said, never told anyone about this. It’s always just been him and Jordie. His hands are shaking, and he can’t—

“What is it?” Tyler asks softly, serious now, and Jamie latches onto the gentleness in his voice. God, Tyler deserves better than this.

He coughs to clear his throat. “We’re kind of…together,” he says.

The words sound way too loud in the room. Jamie’s insides instantly go twisted up, like that sentence was a rope attached to all the most private things inside of him. Like he might have just broken something, by letting them out.

He’s staring down at the couch. He doesn’t want to look up at Tyler’s face, can’t bear to, and then he can’t bear not to, has to know how Tyler is taking this.

Tyler looks—startled. Unsettled. Like he’s not sure he’s understood. “You mean together like…”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, a whisper, and he can see the moment Tyler really takes it in.

“Oh,” Tyler says. He leans back a little. “Wow.”

It’s not the things Jamie was afraid of most—that Tyler would look disgusted, or throw him out right away, or call him a monster. But it could still be those things. Tyler’s face is closed off now, and Jamie can’t read it. Jamie can feel his heart thumping in his chest.

“That…wasn’t what I expected,” Tyler says with a little laugh, and it’s like a normal Tyler laugh except it’s nervous and uncomfortable, and Jamie doesn’t want to be the one who made him feel like that.

“It’s been since my draft day,” Jamie says, before he can think better of it, and then he’s babbling. “It was—I mean, obviously you don’t need the details, unless—but, yeah. He’s just really—” He bites his lip, stops himself from talking.

Tyler draws his knees up to his chest. He seems suddenly far away, for the first time this evening. “So this.” He waves a hand between the two of them, not meeting Jamie’s eyes. “This was…what? Your way of letting me down easy?”

Jamie looks at him in surprise. “God, _no,_ ” he says. He wants to touch Tyler, but Tyler’s curled up at the far end of the couch, and touch would be all wrong right now. He remembers holding Tyler in his arms just minutes ago and twists his hands together. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let—I was going to tell you right away, but—no. This was about—you.”

Tyler looks at him then, a surprised flicker of his eyes. “Me? Me, how?”

Jamie shifts uncomfortably. This would be easier if Jordie were here. He always thinks better with Jordie there to steady him. “It’s sort of been—a thing. Jordie knew before I did, I think. And he thought—he said that maybe it would be good, that maybe you would…want to.”

“Want to what?” Tyler asks in a small voice.

“Be with us,” Jamie says, and he can feel the heat of his face flushing bright red.

Tyler stares at him with wide eyes. Jamie looks back until he can’t anymore, and then he looks away, feeling the burn in his cheeks.

Tyler breaks the silence at last. “You mean like…”

Jamie still can’t look at him. He’s sure way too much of what he’s feeling is showing in his face, but he can’t hide it. He nods.

“For the night?” Tyler says, something in his voice changing, and Jamie shakes his head quickly.

“I mean, sure, if you want, but this isn’t—” Jamie makes himself look back, meet Tyler’s eyes. “I don’t want to _play_ with you,” he says. “I just—God, Tyler, I want _you._ ”

Tyler looks horrifyingly, breath-stoppingly vulnerable. It’s so much that Jamie almost looks away again. But he makes himself keep looking, makes himself maintain eye contact for as long as Tyler needs it.

“And Jordie?” Tyler asks.

“He wants you, too,” Jamie says. Remembers the way Jordie licked Tyler’s taste out of his mouth that afternoon. Shivers a bit.

Tyler licks his lips. “Can I have some time to think about it?” he asks.

Jamie nods probably too eagerly. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

***

He’s shaking when he leaves Tyler’s apartment. Not because he’s upset, just from…everything. It’s all _so much._

Jordie’s waiting just inside the door. Jamie doesn’t know if he heard him approach or if he’s been waiting there for a while. He looks tense, maybe even nervous, and it’s the first time Jamie’s seen him look anything other than chill about this whole Tyler thing.

He changes when he sees Jamie, though, switching over to solicitousness, running his hands up and down his arms like he can tell Jamie needs the touch. “So?”

“He said he needs some time to think about it,” Jamie says, and Jordie folds him into his arms.

It’s stupid, Jamie thinks as he sinks into Jordie’s embrace. He shouldn’t care what happens with Tyler, when he has this. He wants this with Jordie so much, would never give it up for anything, and he could never have imagined before that he could want something else without wanting this less. But he does.

“I feel like he should be here,” Jamie mumbles into Jordie’s shoulder. “Like this isn’t complete without him. Is that weird?”

Jordie presses his lips under Jamie’s ear. “You will always be enough,” he says. “That doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to want more.”

Jordie fucks him slow and sweet that night, Jamie on his back with his wrists held fast under Jordie’s hands, just the way he likes it. As Jordie’s stroking in, he kisses Jamie’s lips, and then he says, “You know whatever happens, you’ll always have me, right?”

Jamie does know. And that means that whatever happens, it will be okay. But…it would be better with Tyler.

***

Tyler’s cheerful at morning skate the next day. Jamie knows him well enough by now to know that sometimes his cheerfulness is a cover he throws up when he’s feeling something very different. He can’t read what’s behind it today, though.

They play like a dream that night. They beat the Preds 4-2, and everyone’s in a good mood in the locker room afterward. Jamie catches a glimpse of Tyler laughing with Val, and he tries to catch his eye, but Tyler isn’t looking at him. And by the time he’s done with the media, Tyler’s gone.

“I didn’t talk to him, either,” Jordie says in response to Jamie’s questioning glance. Then, “He told you he needed time.”

“I know,” Jamie says, even though he was hoping that hadn’t meant—well. It was probably unrealistic to think he and Tyler could go on being as close as they have been while this question is hanging in the air.

He tries not to think about what it will be like in the locker room if this lasts.

He doesn’t want to go out, even though most of the team is rallying for it. “Come on, Baby Benn!” one of the guys calls, and Jamie can’t even dig up a good glare at the nickname.

“Want to go break our nutrition plans with something?” Jordie asks.

Jamie thinks about it, but mostly he just feels tired. “Can we just go home and sit in front of the TV?”

It’s the same at practice the next morning. Tyler seems okay, but he’s not really making eye contact with Jamie or Jordie. Jamie tries to focus on skating his best and not worrying about anything else.

It’s tough when Tyler’s everywhere, though. Near the end of practice, Jamie looks up to see Tyler staring at him, like he’s lost in thought, and when he sees Jamie looking back he flushes and looks away. Jamie fumbles his stick.

“Patience,” Jordie says in his ear afterward, like all they need to do is wait. Like there’s no chance Tyler’s going to freak out and refuse to talk to them again.

“I know,” Jamie says. He tries to relax into the feeling of Jordie’s hand on his shoulder. “I just keep thinking. What if he never…”

“Hey.” Jordie slides his hand up Jamie’s shoulder to rub his thumb against his neck. It’s closer than they’d usually be in the locker room, but not as close as Jamie wants: he wants to curl into Jordie’s side and nestle his head on his shoulder. He wants Jordie’s arms all the way around him. “You’ll be okay. No matter what. We’ll be okay.”

Jamie opens his mouth to say something, but he stops, because Jordie’s looking over his shoulder. Jamie turns and sees Tyler.

He’s a couple of feet away, staring at them. His eyes are wide and dark, way darker than usual, and they flick between Jordie’s hand and their faces.

Something bubbles in Jamie’s stomach. He opens his mouth again, though he has no idea what he’s going to say. Before he can do anything, though, Tyler turns and walks straight out of the room.

***

Jamie runs errands that afternoon. He can’t just sit at home, doing nothing, and they’re going on the road soon. It’s the perfect time to catch up on his dry cleaning and maybe do some actual cooking. And if he’s doing it to avoid thinking about other things that make him want to sit down and never move again, well, that doesn’t make his dinner any less healthy. Even if Jordie does make a face at the kale.

By the time dinner’s over, Jamie’s exhausted. He lets Jordie pull him to the couch and arrange him with his head on Jordie’s lap, and even if he can’t quite relax, Jordie’s fingers carding through his hair definitely help. They’re in the middle of a _Breaking Bad_ episode when there’s a knock on the door.

Jamie and Jordie look at each other, and Jordie tips his head. “All you.”

It’s Tyler. Jamie makes a startled noise, even though he should have expected this; no one else knocks on their door. Tyler’s not smiling. He looks nervous, like he might bolt any minute, but resolute. “Is Jordie home?” he asks, eyes fixed in the neighborhood of Jamie’s shoulder.

“Um, yeah,” Jamie says. He feels like his bones are going to crack from how tense he is. “Are you…”

“Would it be the same?” Tyler says in a rush, words coming out so fast they barely sound like a question. “I mean, would it be like the two of you, and then…”

Jamie’s not sure of the exact question Tyler’s asking, but he gets the general idea immediately. He takes a step forward before he can remember that Tyler probably isn’t ready for touching. “God, _no,_ ” he says as fiercely as he knows how. “I mean—you would be one of us. I would never make you feel like—like the third one.”

Tyler raises his eyes to fix on Jamie’s. What Jamie sees there…wow. “Okay,” Tyler says in a whisper. “Then…I want to try.”

Jamie sucks in a breath. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tyler looks open and terrified and hopeful and oh, Jamie’s never going to have enough air to breathe again. “If…if that’s still okay?”

“Fuck,” Jamie says, and pulls him inside, just taking the time to shove the door shut before pulling him into a kiss. 

Tyler takes a second to go with it. Then it’s like before: Tyler going kind of lax and liquid in his arms, like he’s molding himself to Jamie’s shape. At the same time, Jamie can feel the strength in his muscles, the heat and power that’s yielding itself to him as he eases Tyler’s mouth open and licks inside.

Jamie’s not intending to turn it heavy. But it’s like they’re picking up where they left off the night before last, and he can’t help clutching tighter, kissing deeper and hotter, making Tyler arch into it. Tyler’s giving as good as he gets: fisting Jamie’s t-shirt and shoving their hips together. He gives this breathy little moan as Jamie’s tongue strokes into the back of his mouth.

“Now that’s something to see,” Jordie says quietly next to them, and Tyler and Jamie ease apart. Jamie’s breathing hard, and he can see how red Tyler’s lips are again. Tyler’s eyes dart, startled, towards Jordie, and Jamie can tell that even if he’s theoretically on board here, he’s still not used to the reality of it.

“Go on,” Jamie says, giving him a squeeze and a little nudge, and Tyler goes toward Jordie.

Tyler moves slowly, like maybe he’s uncertain or maybe he’s in a dream. When he reaches him, Jordie gives him this small, private smile. He slides his hand around the back of Tyler’s neck, angles his head, and presses their mouths together.

Jamie gasps at the slug of arousal that hits his gut. It’s almost hotter watching Jordie do it: watching the way Tyler’s eyes flutter shut, the way their lips move wetly together. Jordie takes Tyler’s bottom lip between his and pulls it out and releases it, and then there’s a shock of red as their tongues meet in midair.

“Oh, fuck,” Jamie says, and Tyler makes a high-pitched sound in his throat.

Jordie pulls back, brings his thumb up to Tyler’s mouth and presses on his bottom lip. “You want to come to bed with us?” he asks, and Tyler nods, dazed-looking.

Jordie takes Tyler’s hand to lead him to the bedroom. Tyler turns around and holds out his other hand for Jamie, a grin quirking at his lips. Jamie takes it and crowds up behind Tyler as they walk, kisses the join of his neck and shoulder.

“Mm,” Tyler says, long and low, and Jamie has a sudden flash of how good this is going to be. Can barely walk for it.

He’s so used to giving up control to Jordie in the bedroom. Loves giving up that control, gets so hot from doing it. But it’s just as easy to feel protective of Tyler, to wrap his arms around him from behind when they reach the bedroom and whisper in his ear, “What do you want us to do to you?”

Tyler leans back against him. “Can you, um,” he says, and he sounds kind of breathless. “Can you guys do something together? I think I want to watch.”

Jamie watches over Tyler’s shoulder as Jordie’s face breaks into a smile. “Yeah, I think we can do that,” Jordie says.

Jamie runs a hand over Tyler’s stomach and feels Tyler push back just a little against the spot where Jamie’s cock is digging into his ass. Then he lets go of Tyler and goes to Jordie.

It’s like picking up the steps of a dance he knows so well he can do it in a dream. Jordie slides his arms around him and Jamie just bends to it, lets Jordie ease his mouth open and kiss him warm and deep. There’s a new tingle to it that wasn’t there before: they’ve both kissed Tyler tonight, and Jamie imagines that those kisses are meeting, that all three of them are kissing at once.

And Tyler is watching. Maybe enjoying it. Getting turned on. Jamie’s knees go a little weak at the thought.

Jordie breaks the kiss and moves his mouth to Jamie’s neck, kissing slowly, tenderly, maybe a little more elaborately than he normally would. Making it good for Tyler. “What do you think?” he says in Jamie’s ear. “Blowjob?”

It’s just enough of a question—enough so that Jamie doesn’t have to do anything other than nod, and Jordie’s leading him back towards the bed, lying down and beckoning Jamie to bend over him.

They’re both still wearing all their clothes. There are pants to be unbuttoned, shirts to come off at some point. But their eyes meet, and then they both look over at Tyler.

“Want to join us over here?” Jordie asks.

Tyler’s still standing by the bedroom door, glassy-eyed, his cock making a hard bulge in the front of his jeans. He nods.

Jordie’s lying on the side of the bed away from the door, plenty of space for Tyler. It strikes Jamie that he did it deliberately, making Tyler feel welcome. He feels a wave of affection so strong for Jordie that it has to be shining out of his eyes, and then he looks at Tyler, who’s just lying down next to them, lets its spill over onto him, too.

“You want to watch him suck me?” Jordie asks Tyler.

“Yeah,” Tyler breathes.

Jamie loves this. Can feel his mouth filling up with saliva at the thought of Jordie’s cock in it. He fumbles with Jordie’s fly, hands shaking from arousal and from the knowledge of Tyler’s eyes on him. He gets the fly open and pulls Jordie’s pants down, just enough to expose his boxer-briefs, where his cock is jutting up. He can feel his own eyes train onto it, knows Tyler’s probably are, too.

He pulls the briefs off and down, and Jordie’s cock springs up. Jamie feels weirdly proud of it, as if it were his own he were showing off for Tyler. Jordie’s cock is thick and just tall enough, round head even thicker where the foreskin is peeling back. Jamie bends down and licks up the underside, gets his tongue in the slit for the way it makes Jordie’s hips jump and Tyler’s breath catch.

He listens to Tyler’s breathing as he gets the head in his mouth and starts sucking in earnest. Jordie’s good at controlling his hips, but Jamie likes it when he lets them jerk a little, when he starts to lose a little bit of control.

“Fuck, yeah, Jame,” Jordie says when Jamie takes him halfway down, lips sliding slick over velvety skin. He gets his hand in Jamie’s hair, and oh, Jamie _loves_ this, when Jordie starts directing his head. He can taste little precome bursts against his tongue.

“Oh my God, you guys,” Tyler says, voice ragged, and Jamie hears a sound that must be him jerking off. He moans around Jordie’s cock, and Jordie’s hips jerk more.

“Jamie, your mouth,” Jordie says. Then, “He could do this to you,” to Tyler, “suck your cock down his throat. Or—maybe it’s his cock you want—maybe not in your throat—” And Jamie sucks harder and rubs his cock against the edge of the bed at the sound of Tyler’s breathing picking up, the little sounds Tyler is making.

“Don’t come yet,” Jordie says to Tyler, voice sounding broken, and Tyler whimpers. Jordie is pistoning into Jamie’s mouth now, fucking his throat, his hand in Jamie’s hair just the right degree of commanding. Jamie feels tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and precome soak the front of his jeans.

“Gonna—” Jordie says, and then he’s coming down Jamie’s throat, Jamie sucking down every drop. He pulls off, gasping.

Jordie’s lying back, chest heaving, and next to them, Tyler’s breath is fast and shallow, his pupils wide with arousal and the hard, shiny tip of his cock peeking out from his fist.

“Okay,” Tyler says. “I think I need someone to fuck me, right now.”

Jamie groans at that and bends down to kiss him. Tyler’s kiss is hungry, ravenous. Like watching Jamie and Jordie pushed him right up to the edge.

Jordie’s hand settles on Jamie’s shoulder, and Jamie breaks the kiss, looking again at the sheen his spit left on Tyler’s lips and the sheen of dazed lust in Tyler’s eyes. Then he pulls back and lets Jordie lean in, join his mouth to Tyler’s.

Tyler pushes just as hungrily into Jordie’s mouth. Jamie watches and breathes, feeling his pulse pounding in his cock.

“You guys,” Tyler whispers, voice full of wonder. He runs a hand over Jordie’s chest, cuts his eyes back to Jamie. Jamie seizes his free hand and tangles their fingers together.

“Want me to hold you while he fucks you?” Jordie asks, and Tyler’s eyes sink shut as he nods.

They end up with Jordie leaning back against the pillows, Tyler against his chest. Jamie fusses a little about Tyler’s position, wants to make sure that his back isn’t strained by raising his hips, and Jordie pulls Jamie in for a long kiss and then props Tyler’s hips up with pillows. Then wraps his arms around Tyler’s chest and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I think he’s ready, bro,” he says.

Tyler’s lying naked in Jordie’s arms, panting shallowly. It makes Jamie think of the way Tyler sometimes falls asleep against Jordie while they were watching TV. Except now Jordie’s naked, Tyler’s naked, all that skin pressed against each other. Jamie can’t take his eyes off them as he peels his own clothes off, stumbles over his pant legs because he can’t look down. Not when there’s this much of Tyler and Jordie to look at.

Finally he’s naked, too. Tyler’s watching him with lidded eyes. His gaze travels slowly down Jamie’s body, then slowly up again, and Jamie feels himself flush.

“Like what you see?” Jordie asks into Tyler’s ear.

Tyler nods.

“Yeah, me too,” Jordie says, and Jamie shudders with it.

It’s weird, leaning down over Tyler and kissing him with Jordie right there. Weird, but hot, the way he can feel Jordie watching them. The way Tyler’s lips cling to his as he pulls away.

“Hi,” Tyler whispers when they separate, grinning up at him, and Jamie feels himself grinning back. Tyler bucks up just enough that the heads of their cocks brush, and Jamie closes his eyes at the sensation.

Tyler gives a whimper, and Jamie looks down to see Jordie’s hands on his chest, massaging Tyler’s nipples. Jamie stops to watch, and Tyler looks up at him and lets his knees fall open.

Jamie sucks in a breath at the sight. He feels giddy with it, the way Tyler’s baring his hole for him. He would never want this from Jordie, but he wants it from Tyler: the trust he can see in Tyler’s eyes, that Jamie’s going to do the right thing, make Tyler feel good. The way he’s already doing it, Tyler’s cock hard and leaking, his chest rising, falling, fast. The way he and Jordie will do it together.

Jamie touches the skin of Tyler’s ass, gets his hands around the globes and squeezes. Like Jordie’s, but rounder, a slightly different texture. _Tyler._ He pulls the cheeks apart and reaches in between.

“Yeah,” Tyler gasps when Jamie’s finger ghosts over his hole.

Jamie’s never done this side of it before. He’s fingered himself, back when he and Jordie were in separate beds or cities or countries and he could only touch himself and think of him. But he’s never fingered anyone else open.

He’s breathing hard with it now, gets some lube on his fingers. Tyler’s hole is a small pucker underneath his fingertip. Jamie pushes on it, and Tyler breathes in, and Jamie feels the breath all through his own chest. The tip of his finger goes in.

It’s, God, so tight. Jamie wants to ask how often Tyler’s done this, if he’s been able to find people to take care of him like this over the years, but he doesn’t. He just strokes his finger into Tyler and tries to find the spot that always makes him shudder with pleasure when Jordie does it.

He must find it, because Tyler twitches and starts breathing harder, a little bit of sound on every exhale. His mouth is open, eyelids fluttering against his cheeks and head moving a bit, like he can’t quite control it. Jamie wonders if this is how he looks when Jordie fingers him open. Hopes it is, but can’t quite imagine it—can’t imagine looking as _good_ as Tyler looks right now. As delicious in his hunger.

Jamie slides in a second finger. He looks down to where their bodies are joined and watches his fingers slide back and forth against the little ring of muscle, watches it clench in parallel with the tight squeezing he feels on his fingers. It feels like every nerve in his body is in his fingers right now. His cock is so hard he could hit a puck with it.

“He wants you to kiss him,” Jordie says.

Jamie’s gaze snaps up to Tyler’s face. Tyler is looking at him, open-mouthed, pleading. Jordie’s kissing his temple, his ear, but Tyler’s looking at Jamie.

Jamie lowers himself down and presses his open mouth to Tyler’s. Tyler surges up into it right away, sucking hungrily on Jamie’s tongue while Jamie’s fingers slide in and out of Tyler’s hole.

Three fingers now. Tyler’s hole squeezes down greedily around them. Jamie’s trying not to rut against Jordie’s leg, and he doesn’t need to look at Tyler’s cock to feel how into this he is. He can feel it in the quick desperation of his kisses, in the way he rolls his hips into Jamie’s fingers.

He’s not sure how loose Tyler needs to be, but finally Tyler breaks the kiss and says, “Jaaamie,” a cry that breaks off when Jamie brushes his prostate in the middle of it, and Jamie knows it’s time.

He goes for the lube again. Jordie puts a hand on his arm to stop him. Hands him a condom.

Jamie looks at him in surprise. He’s never used a condom before. Never had an opportunity to, before Jordie, and the two of them never have. Maybe stupid, in retrospect, but Jamie left it up to Jordie. And Jordie knew, must have known, that they were only fucking each other.

But Tyler’s fucked other people, been fucked by other people. Might again, and Jamie doesn’t want to think about that, so he rolls the condom on.

Tyler’s looking up at him, watching him, still breathing hard as Jordie scrapes fingernails over his belly and over the hard pebbled nubs of his nipples. Jamie lines himself up but hesitates, feels the enormity of it in his chest. Looks to Jordie.

Jordie slides his nose against Tyler’s neck and presses a kiss on the skin, bites his bearded jaw. “Want to show Jamie how good you can be fucked?” he asks.

Tyler nods, eyes squeezed shut and mouth gasping for air.

His hips are tilted up, knees apart, and Jamie runs his hands down the backs of Tyler’s thighs. He cants Tyler’s hips up farther and presses a finger to the rim of his hole. It closes on him right away, like Tyler’s hole can’t wait to have something in it.

“Please,” Tyler says, and that’s it, Jamie needs to be inside him right now.

He pushes his cock in, and the sensation makes his thoughts stutter and stop as he slides in. He knew it felt good the other way around, but he never imagined how good it could feel this way: the tight clinging heat around his cock. Tyler’s body heaving beneath him, the pink flush on Tyler’s cheeks as his mouth drops open in an _o._

“Fuck,” Jordie whispers beneath him, and that’s what Jamie does.

It’s—God, it’s amazing. The grasp of Tyler’s hole around his dick as he slides out, then pushes back in. The way Tyler whimpers at his thrusts. Tyler’s heels come around and dig into his back, and then there’s another heel joining them—one of Jordie’s legs, urging him in. Like they’re fucking Tyler together.

Jamie feels the world going blurry. Everything is lost in the heat of Tyler around him. He can hear the little sounds Tyler makes, cutting right through the haze and dropping into the bottom of his stomach. All three of them are breathing hard: Tyler whooshing out breath every time Jamie fucks into him, and Jordie breathing shallow and quick beneath him.

Jamie never knew fucking someone could be this good. The thought floats through his mind, disconnected, and for a second he thinks, _Jordie,_ but no, it isn’t Jordie he wants to fuck. It feels right that this should have waited for Tyler. That he should be giving this to Tyler for the first time.

“Jamie,” Tyler cries, voice broken, and Jamie looks down to see that Jordie’s hand is on Tyler’s cock. He’s stripping it fast, Tyler writhing between his hand and Jamie’s cock. Jamie’s hips stutter at the sight, and he groans, fucking in harder.

“Tyler,” he says, “I’m gonna,” and Tyler breathes, “Yeah,” head tipped back and chest flushed down to his navel. Jamie feels the world coming unpinned, feels like he’s falling through space with nothing to catch him. But _Tyler,_ Tyler will catch him, and he’s coming into Tyler’s body, pulsing hot inside him and and fucking _soaring_ with it.

“Fuck!” Tyler shouts, and his hole clenches around Jamie’s twitching cock as he spills onto their bellies. He pulls Jamie down while he’s still coming, presses their mouths together. Licks in urgently, and Jamie’s body buzzes with it.

Their kisses slow down as their pulses calm and Jamie gives up on holding his own weight up anymore. Just lets himself sink into Tyler and into the slow, melting rhythm of their mouths.

“God _damn,”_ Jordie says beneath them. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard.”

Tyler giggles weakly. Jamie pulls back a little, meeting Jordie’s eyes. They’re dark and avid. Jamie grins at him, then at Tyler, and leans down to press tiny slow kisses to the skin of Tyler’s cheek, his dimple, his cheekbone.

“What do you think,” Tyler says, mouth against Jamie’s ear, “should we help him out?”

“I think we could manage that,” Jamie says. His body feels good all the way through, and he lets that warm goodness spill into action as he pulls out of Tyler, ties off the condom, rolls onto the bed by Jordie’s side.

Tyler doesn’t roll off—just turns over, goes up on his hands and knees, and grins down at Jordie. Jordie wasn’t kidding about being hard. His cock is an angry red, pearling with precome even though he came in Jamie’s mouth not twenty minutes ago. “You liked lying under the two of us, huh?” Tyler says.

“Fuck,” Jordie says softly. “You two. That was…” And Tyler leans down and puts his tongue to the head of Jordie’s cock.

Jamie feels a spike of arousal he didn’t think he could feel this soon after coming. He puts his head on Jordie’s shoulder, feels the quickening of his breath. He slides a hand over Jordie’s chest and feels him twitch as his fingernails scrape over nipples.

Is it always going to be like this? Everything so much hotter whenever it’s the three of them? Jamie’s not sure if he can take it; might spontaneously combust. Even now, watching Tyler’s lips slide down Jordie’s cock, his own is struggling to get hard again. He doesn’t even want Tyler to be giving him a blowjob right now: it’s so hot watching him give one to Jordie.

Jordie turns his towards Jamie, gusts his breath over Jamie’s forehead and makes him shiver. “How do you think Tyler’s ass is feeling right now?” he asks, and the question skitters down into Jamie’s belly and makes his breath quicken again.

Tyler’s ass is in the air as he bobs up and down on Jordie’s cock. Maybe he was paying attention to the question, because his cheeks are pink—or maybe he just really likes having Jordie’s cock in his mouth. Either way, Jamie’s mouth is very wet suddenly.

“Go,” Jordie whispers, and Jamie gets up slowly, feeling dazed. He goes around behind Tyler, off the bed, and runs his hands softly over Tyler’s ass.

Tyler hums at him. Then Jamie pulls his cheeks apart and dips down with the tip of his tongue against the stretched rim of Tyler’s hole, and Tyler makes this high, punched-out sound that makes Jordie under him groan.

“You guys just have no idea what you look like,” Jordie says, but Jamie thinks he does, because he can see Tyler going down on Jordie’s cock, and it’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. Almost, but not quite, as hot as the way Tyler’s hole twitches against his tongue as he dips it delicately inside.

He tastes like lube, but Jamie doesn’t care. The skin is soft and warm and slick against his tongue, and Tyler is breathing hard and clenching down rhythmically, almost sobbing as he swallows Jordie’s dick, and—and, God, yes, Tyler’s hard again. Jamie can see his dick bobbing against his stomach as he goes up and down. Jamie reaches out and wraps his hand around it.

Tyler makes another inarticulate sound, and he must do something to Jordie’s dick, because Jordie grunts and gasps out a “Fuck, you guys,” before his back is bowing and he’s coming down Tyler’s throat. Then Tyler’s mouth is free, and he’s leaning his forehead against Jordie’s hipbone and gasping for air as Jamie strips his dick and tongue-fucks his ass.

Jamie’s hard again. There’s no way he wouldn’t be hard, with all of this going on. He runs his other hand down his own dick, fast, because he’s feeling desperate again, and Tyler’s ass is practically pulsing against his tongue, and—

Tyler wails, high and in the back of his throat, and he spurts all over Jamie’s hand. His ass clamps down, tight on Jamie’s tongue for a second, and then the walls are fluttering against him. Jamie pulls his face away, breathing hard and urgent, and pulls on his own cock a few times before his mind goes gloriously blank and he comes all over Tyler’s magnificent ass.

“Oh God,” he says, weakly, and then collapses on the bed next to Jordie. Tyler comes down on top of them, and Jamie’s _warm_ and languid and sated and all the wonderful things he can think of.

Jordie reaches out a hand and wraps it around Jamie’s wrist, and then it’s even better.

***

Jamie’s afraid Tyler’s going to leave when they eventually get up to clean themselves off. He hovers near Tyler in the bathroom, wanting to hold onto him to keep him there and knowing that wouldn’t be cool. But Tyler just uses one of their toothbrushes and heads sleepily back to the bed.

Jamie follows him back into the room while Jordie’s still brushing his teeth. Tyler lies down on his side on the bed, still naked, and after a moment of hesitation Jamie curls around him.

“Mm,” Tyler says as he snuggles against him sleepily. He takes Jamie’s hand and puts it on his stomach. Jamie relaxes a little.

He rests his nose against the warm smoothness of the skin under Tyler’s ear. “So,” he says, and he tries to keep the nerves out of his voice. “What did you think?”

Tyler takes his arm and pulls it tighter around him. “Don’t let me go,” he murmurs.

Jamie’s heart thumps, hard, in his chest. He holds on tighter.

Jordie comes out of the bathroom then and pauses, looking at the two of them on the bed. Jamie meets his eye and nods, once. He’s not sure exactly what he’s communicating— _yes, it’s all right_ or _yes, you should join us_ or even, the most wonderful one, the one he’s not sure he believes himself yet, _yes, we get to keep him_ —but whatever it is, Jordie’s face breaks into a wide smile.

“Come here,” Jamie says, and Jordie slots himself behind Jamie, curled around his back the way Jamie is around Tyler’s.

Jamie closes his eyes and feels himself sinking down into sleep. Maybe there’ll be some conversations in the morning. But for now, he’s pretty sure he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> The undernegotiated D/s elements in this story are:
> 
> 1) Jamie likes it when Jordie holds him down;
> 
> 2) Jamie likes being tied up during sex; and
> 
> 3) Jamie likes it when Jordie tells him how to spend an afternoon.
> 
> Basically, Jamie likes it when Jordie takes control. There's no role playing or pain play. I'm calling it undernegotiated only because there's no explicit discussion of limits or safewords. Given what they're doing, a safeword might not be strictly necessary ("stop" would work just fine, as it would during more vanilla sex), but still, not exactly kink best practices. Please let me know if there's anything else you think I should be warning for!
> 
> (All the [tumblings](http://linskywords.tumblr.com/))


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